Tiny Buddha

Tag: Happiness

  • 3 Questions That Help Me Stop Worrying About Things I’ve Said and Done

    3 Questions That Help Me Stop Worrying About Things I’ve Said and Done

    “If you have fear of some pain or suffering, you should examine whether there is anything you can do about it. If you can, there is no need to worry about it; if you cannot do anything, then there is also no need to worry.” ~Dalai Lama

    Another sleepless night had passed, with me worrying about whether I’d said the wrong thing to my colleague yesterday or if the tone of my email I’d sent was too critical.

    They were not the only things that kept me awake.

    I would go out to dinner with friends and say some ‘bad’ jokes—bad because nobody laughed. Was I wrong? Do people not like me? They looked unhappy.

    I prided myself on being the funny guy. The entertainer.

    The list of worries and fears continued. It used to be endless.

    I had a cure for overcoming my fears. I would talk to anybody I could find who was willing to hear about my problems. I was desperately seeking to hear “Poor you, Kieran” from someone. Anybody. 

    Then everything would be okay. The problem would go away.

    Strangely enough, the problem would go away. It was never as bad as I had feared. Yet the behavior—how I dealt with my fears and anxieties as they arose—continued.

    I continued to feel anxious, fearful, and nervous in a wide variety of situations.

    Then one day, it all came to a head.

    A few years ago, I was working in a stressful corporate environment. I had a one-on-one meeting with my manager. In this meeting, he informed me that I was depressed.

    It was a strange thing to say. Bizarre. I thought he was joking and rejected the comment.

    I couldn’t shake this comment out of my head. I continued to think about that meeting over the next few days.

    I began to realize that I had spent a lot of energy protecting myself, fearful that others might perceive any negative perceptions I had about myself and then would judge me.

    As soon as somebody confronted me directly and pierced through the protective bubble I had placed around myself, I felt a sudden need to make changes.

    Looking back, I suspect that I knew deep down that I was able to influence how I perceived these situations. Feeling fearful had become part of my identity, though. Like a drug, I was addicted to feeling this way and refused to believe that it was possible to change my perceptions.

    I started reading countless self-help books. Some of the advice in these books I have either plainly ignored or considered too hard to implement.

    However, what I noticed in all or most of these books is the need to explore and question why you feel the way you do and challenge this on a regular basis.

    So I did. And after a while, I began to form my own questions to attempt to deal with all challenges and anxieties that arose in my life.

    Now, whenever a fear arises, I sit down in a quiet space and write the answers to the following three questions:

    What do I actually fear about this?

    In other words, what is the worst thing that can happen? Maybe they won’t talk to me again if they were offended by something I said. They might end the relationship I have with them. I might lose my job. Perhaps all of this is okay. Perhaps all of this is a great learning experience. Whatever it is, I write it down.

    Do I have the ability to change this?

    Next, I look at what I fear. Can I change this situation?

    If the answer is yes, I write down how I can and what steps I need to take.

    If the answer is no, I tell myself to let it go. This is hard, but it gets easier with time.

    If this happened to somebody I love, what would I tell him or her?

    It is important to reflect on this. Most of us are great at giving other people advice but terrible at following it ourselves. I find that by asking this question, not only does my self-respect and self-love increase, I feel more understanding and compassionate toward others who hold similar fears and anxieties.

    I have answered these questions many times.

    One situation that immediately comes to mind was when, at the end of a workday, I sent an email to a client, including some confidential information about his manager. This was clearly an accident, but it was sloppy on my part.

    I felt sick. What made this worse was that this day happened to be my birthday.

    I took a deep breath. I got a pen and some paper and started answering the three questions.

    What was my fear?

    I thought the person would think I was stupid for sending this to them. I was worried that my boss might think I was ineffective, incompetent

    As I began writing the answers to this question, I started to question whether I even valued my abilities and worth as a human being.

    I put this down. It was hard. I realized that I’d had a negative impression of myself. It was difficult to ponder this, but it was such an invaluable experience that I used it to springboard into improving other areas of my life.

    Did I have the ability to change this?

    No. The email was sent. The workday had finished. I was celebrating my birthday that evening. Yet the fear kept coming up.

    I couldn’t change what had happened, but the fear remained. How could I change that? I wrote down a solution when I returned home, one that would benefit me and hopefully the other person.

    I acknowledged it was a mistake. I told myself that I would take care and be diligent before pressing the send button in future. I turned the negative into a positive.

    Lesson learned. The fear subsided.

    And onto the last question: If this happened to somebody I love, what would I tell him or her?

    This is the easy bit, as it is no longer about me. I would tell them, “These things happen. We all make mistakes. Everything will be okay. This is one event that will likely seem insignificant when weighed against the many things that will happen to you over the course of your life.”

    I went to bed that night feeling much better and got some sleep.

    So, what happened?

    The next day, the moment I sat down at my desk, I rang the person to whom I sent the email and explained the situation. I asked him to delete the email, and he said he would.

    That was the end of the saga. No further communication came my way. From anyone.

    Did he look at the information in the email? I don’t know. Does it matter? No. Because I could not revoke what happened in the past.

    Answering the three questions helped me feel better about myself. It still does.

    Since I have implemented this into my life, most of these troubling events have started to disappear. Well, maybe they didn’t disappear, but my perception of them as being problems, which causes anxiety, has disappeared.

    In the past, I had conditioned myself to feel bad all the time. It was who I was. Today, referring back to this list whenever I have a problem or anxiety is immensely therapeutic.

    It does take time to make this a habit, and it is certainly not a quick fix to eliminating all anxieties and fears. It is also confronting, initially, to spend time exploring how your fears manifest.

    However, the rewards, in my case, have been very satisfying. I have developed a sense of love toward myself, which had never existed before, and more importantly, I feel more love toward others.

    What do I fear most now? That I might revert back to the “old Kieran” and start worrying about every little thing. Oh, great, now I’ve identified this fear, I need to ask myself the three questions again!

  • Soften into Life and You Will be Strong

    Soften into Life and You Will be Strong

    “It’s the hard things that break; soft things don’t break…You can waste so many years of your life trying to become something hard in order not to break; but it’s the soft things that can’t break! The hard things are the ones that shatter into a million pieces!” ~C Joybell C

    Language is a powerful thing. Though often dismissed as “semantics,” the imagery our words and terminology impart often adds unintended or even misguided connotations onto what we intend to say.

    This is why it is so difficult to speak about spirituality. When we say “God” or “salvation” or even “peace,” those words can bear an unintended doctrinal, political, or social stamp on them that means something very different to the listener than it does to the speaker.

    A prime example of this is the “hardness” imagery that is woven into many words intended to be positive, such as “strong” or “tough.” We want to be “strong” and “tough,” to be able to handle all of life’s trials and tribulations without cracking.

    However, these words often morph into an image of hardness. When we are strong, we hunker down, grit our teeth, and bear it. When we are tough, we “power through” the bad times.

    The short-term result is often satisfying. The hard person bounces back quickly from a failed marriage or an illness or losing a long-term job. The trouble, however, is often found beneath the surface and in the long term. What happens when someone spends a lifetime hunkering down and powering through?

    To use a cliché, the tree that doesn’t bend, breaks. A hard tree can endure a lot, but when a strong wind blows, it cracks and falls over. Let’s look at a bunch of images to see this more clearly.

    Brené Brown talks of armor. We put on armor to avoid the hurt. That used to be a way of life for me.

    I once knew someone who had endured a lot of trauma as a child, having been abused and betrayed by people to whom he was vulnerable.

    His survival mechanism developed through these experiences was to not go too deep with people, to hold his cards close to the vest and not open up. This was easier, he explained, because when you were done with someone, you could just move on easily without feeling the hurt.

    What followed in his wake were broken relationships and broken people, who he was able to step past.

    But what does it mean when you don’t let people in and open yourself up to them? You avoid the hurt, but you also miss the intimacy, the connection, and the depth of an open, honest relationship.

    Indeed, how can you even really be in love with someone if you erect an emotional barrier in the way? You can’t.

    As Brené Brown explains, you can cut off feelings—the good and the bad—but you can’t isolate and block out specific types of feelings.

    In order to feel joy and intimacy, you need to allow yourself the vulnerability that will also inevitably lead at times to pain.

    In order to love, you have to deal with the eventual certainty of loss. Otherwise, you’re just kind of numb. You’re not really there.

    People need connection. What happens to someone who moves through life while keeping everyone at arm’s length? What happens to people who don’t show themselves for who they are? I should know—I often avoided authenticity and vulnerability in order to protect myself.

    I was an alpha male. Having grown up in a household where I was set upon by my parents, I learned not to be vulnerable. I became a go-getter—determined, accomplished, and always putting on a strong front, strutting around to ward off those who would hurt me.

    What this meant, though, is that I struggled to find that one person with whom I could be completely honest, and when I did, I put all my eggs in that basket. Hence, when my relationship ended, I was destroyed.

    The more you hurt, the more you fear. The more you fear, the thicker the armor you wear. The thicker your armor, the more it weighs you down. When my armor finally cracked and fell off, it led to a complete breakdown. It was during the recovery from that breakdown that I learned what real strength was.

    I had been determined. I fixed my sights on goals, typically those that would bring me recognition, and I achieved them.  These goals conformed with what is commonly viewed as “success”—wealth, influence, and renown. So, I doggedly stuck to the path, my eyes always forward instead of looking around me. I was tough.

    Life is a long road with many forks. My eyes on the prize, I was unwavering and kept going left. Unfortunately, life was telling me in so many ways to go right.

    I lived in a city that didn’t at all conform with what I valued. I stayed in a relationship that exhibited many warning signs. I had a high-powered, well-compensated job that drained all my time and energy. I was literally sick—in the hospital multiple times each year when I had almost never been in one before that.

    When the pain became too much, I fell apart, and at that point, I had no choice but to go right.

    In that moment, all my hardness couldn’t see me through. And that’s what suffering is: It’s the great teacher that keeps telling you where to go, and the more you try to power through, the more painful and prolonged it will be. Then you soften up and go right, and everything changes.

    Not surprisingly, nature inspired me with the most fitting, if obscure, image: a salt marsh.

    Salt marshes are a natural habitat along coastlines. During storms, salt marshes absorb the force of large waves, which travel into the marshes, lose momentum, and dissipate. If they even hit the shore, the waves retain a fraction of their former strength, and the coast is thus protected. Sand dunes serve a similar function.

    Over time, people have degraded and destroyed these fragile habitats, making storms even more dangerous and destructive.

    To protect harbors, people have built sea walls made of stone. These walls appear strong, but over time sea walls crumble with the force of being slammed by powerful waves or can even cause more destruction when waves ricocheting off of them create violent chop in the water.

    When you are a sea wall, you smack the waves away. The waves hit other people and objects and smack you back. Your resistance creates wake, which damages others and eventually, after a long time, causes you to collapse.

    Instead, be a salt marsh. Absorb the waves and let them pass through you. Accept them. You will be hit with enormous force, but you will not lend that force any more energy. If left unpolluted and unspoiled, salt marshes will survive forever.

    Underneath the hard armor that weighs you down, you’re soft. When you are a salt marsh, your softness absorbs the waves. The hard sea wall smacks them away. A flexible tree bends with the storm, while the hard one doesn’t waver—until it breaks.

    Somehow this image works for so many of spirituality’s life lessons. Let hurt soften you; don’t let it harden you. Let that time someone hurt you open your heart up to compassion for all of those who are hurting. Let it be a reminder in the moment to be more forgiving.

    When an experience is difficult, you can fight with it. But if you surrender to it, let down your walls, and be open to the experience, you will grow from the pain. Give up the hard walls and soften yourself up to what comes your way.

    When floating down the river of life, you’re totally right to swim in the direction you’d like to go. But paddle too hard against the current, and you’ll drown. Try going soft and floating, seeing where the river will take you—it’s not like you have that much of a choice anyway!

    Bravely learn to relax with life and see what happens, and you will make decisions with more wisdom and take actions with more power than if you were fighting.

    As Pema Chödrön says, “Stop protecting your soft spot… stop armoring your heart.” Likewise, “Wretchedness humbles us and softens us… Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us.”

    Maybe it’s something like a rule: when you’re in a moment in which your instincts are telling you to be hard, before you act at least take a moment to consider what being soft would look like. What would the soft option be, what could result, and who might you become?

    As a hard alpha-male, I made it far in life. By age thirty, I had been in meetings in the West Wing of the White House, worked with Fortune 500 Company CEOs, been to more than fifty countries, and made lots of money. But that year, I also fell apart, and it took a few years to put myself back together again.

    Now, I’m a struggling entrepreneur. I gave up the suits and the flights and the tough talk. However, though I’ve been through a lot since the big change, I walked—not powered—through it with so much more clarity and even strength than before. I went soft.

    Contemplate softness.

  • How to Accept Anxious Feelings So You Can Let Them Pass

    How to Accept Anxious Feelings So You Can Let Them Pass

    “Don’t try and save yourself. The self that is trying to be saved is not you.” ~Mooji

    Three months ago I had a strange experience.

    It wasn’t strange in that it had never happened before. It was strange in that it was unexpected. Unexpected in the way a hiccup comes up out of nowhere to interrupt a meal. No, actually, it was more unexpected in the way a sudden illness overtakes a period of health.

    Just for a bit of context, over the last six months, I’ve generally been the calmest I’ve felt in years—maybe even my whole life. But recently this has come with a strange side effect. When negative emotions do arise, as they inevitably do, I’m sometimes even more reactive to them than I used to be.

    So three months ago when I woke up abruptly in the middle of the night with a ball of anxiety in my chest it was, well, unexpected.

    And my mind immediately kicked into overdrive.

    “Why am I anxious?”

    “Is there something I’ve forgotten?”

    “Is there something coming up that I’m nervous about?”

    “Am I sick?”

    And then the most dangerous question of all:

    “Have I really been anxious this whole time and the calm isn’t real?”

    This question is very tricky. If I was a character in a movie, I’d been standing up out of my seat and yelling at myself on the screen, “Ignore it! Ignore it! You’re fine, go back to sleep!”

    But it’s tricky because it feels like there a grain of truth to it; on some level we can all relate to that sense of doubt. Our minds tend to come up with explanations based on our feelings, so this sensation of anxiety was (unsurprisingly) causing my mind to come up with a story based on these feelings.

    The whole ordeal lasted less than five minutes. Fortunately, in this moment of tension, I was mindful enough to see how far-fetched these thoughts were. I settled on a far more pragmatic explanation; I’d become so unused to feelings of anxiety, that when they did arise, they were a shock to the system, so my mind immediately tried to rationalize them.

    And then I went back to sleep.

    Moments like this one would come again, and what I needed to do was simple. Any five-minute mindfulness book would have had the answer.

    All I needed to do to keep the calm was to not care that these thoughts and feelings were there. I just needed to be completely disinterested, to not touch anything in my mind. Following the instructions in a moment of distress, however, is much easier said than done.

    So I remembered what I’d heard a yoga teacher say once in an uncomfortable pose where the students had their hands above their heads for a long time.

    “Just tell your mind that things are going to be like this for the rest of your life. It’ll get bored of the pain and move on.”

    I took that idea and started applying it whenever worries came up. I managed to convince myself that I didn’t need to fix anything and that feelings of anxiety were just really not that interesting. It worked out pretty well, so well in fact, that I thought I’d go into a little bit more detail of how I managed to do so and share it with you.

    Here are five ways you can begin to accept anxious feelings and live a better life.

    1. Accept that you can never know why you are experiencing anxiety.

    As problem-solving creatures, when we experience discomfort we immediately try and understand why. But not everything in our lives has a straightforward answer. There are a multitude of factors that lead to anxious feelings, from genetics to work to relationships to diet, memories, and even the weather.

    Trying to pinpoint one reason so that you can have a concise narrative in our minds is a lot less effective (and a lot more tiring) than simply accepting the fact that you don’t know why. This acceptance also allows you to focus your energy toward more practical, calm-inducing strategies such as journaling, yoga, and exercise. When we have more energy, we’re more alert, and this naturally makes us more engaged in our work and home lives, safeguarding us against anxiety and rumination.

    2. Accept that anxiety is neither good nor bad.

    Seeing your anxiety in a wider perspective is best illustrated with a Taoist story (origin unknown):

    “There is an old farmer who had worked his crops from many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.

    “Maybe,” the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.

    “Maybe,” replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.

    “Maybe,” answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. “Maybe,” said the farmer.”

    To accept anxious feelings, try to treat them like the farmer in the story treated his horses. You never know what good may come from your anxiety! In fact, the calm in my life that I mentioned at the start of this article is a direct result of the meditation practice I started, and continued, because of anxiety.

    3. Accept that everyone will experience some form of anxiety.

    When we experience pain we’re hardwired to respond to it, and in that response our perspective is distorted. We become the center of the universe, because we are only feeling our pain in that moment, and not anyone else’s.

    It can be calming and reassuring to know that everyone goes through periods of worry. There are billions of people who have dealt with whatever feelings are coming up in your experience, and there will probably be billions after you. So don’t by any means underestimate your capacity to handle the situation.

    4. Let go of the idea that you shouldn’t have anxiety.

    How would you feel about anxiety if everyone in the world had it? Or if you were told that it was a necessary and useful part of life? You’d probably worry about it a lot less. The idea that you shouldn’t have any feeling stems from the need for things to be better. If you can let go of the normative belief that anxiety is wrong, then your mind will naturally become less and less interested in it.

    This goes hand in hand with the idea that anxiety holds you back in any way—you want to let that go too. Anxiety may, in fact, hold you back from an immediate action, but if we recall the Taoist story of the farmer and his horses, we can never truly know in what direction anxiety will take us.

    5. Become bored with your anxiety.

    This last one is the most difficult but the most important. Often anxiety is so painful that we become fascinated, obsessed even, with understanding and solving our worries. We want to get rid of the pain of anxiety as soon as possible.

    Sometimes this is useful, as we come up with strategies to manage our emotions, but a lot of the time it validates the power of our anxiety and adds fuel to the fire. The mind will only focus on what it values; if you can manage to become bored with your anxiety, it will loosen its grip on your life.

    —

    The steps I’ve outlined in this article are, like I explained in my own experience, much easier said than done. I hope, however, that I’ve given you a slightly different approach you can take toward dealing with any negative emotions.

  • Be Good to Yourself: 10 Powerful Ways to Practice Self-Love

    Be Good to Yourself: 10 Powerful Ways to Practice Self-Love

    “Self-love, self-respect, self-worth: There’s a reason they all start with ‘self.’ You can’t find them in anyone else.” ~Unknown

    It was one of those nights.

    I was in a busy New York bar, having fun and enjoying myself. That was, until someone asked me: “So, what do you do?”

    Within a few seconds my fun, happy, playful side vanished and in entered a girl full of doubts and insecurity.

    The truth was… I had no freaking idea about what I was doing! I had just left my corporate job and now I was on a journey to discover what I truly wanted to do in life.

    That question stripped me down to feeling naked and exposed. Because I didn’t have a job title.  (Unless “I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-with-my-life” works?) I had nothing externally to “prove” my worthiness with.

    I’ve always been pretty confident. My dad used to give me incentives for challenging myself. “Climb up that wall and I’ll buy you an ice cream.” “Be Santa Claus for your siblings and you’ll get that nail polish you really want.”

    So, I never had a problem saying yes to things, such as taking job offers abroad and accepting challenging positions and demanding projects. Of course I had moments of doubt, but even when I doubted myself, I always said yes and found a solution one way or another.

    Until that moment in the bar, I had (unconsciously, of course) proved my worth through my achievements. I had thought of myself as someone who valued herself no matter the job title, relationship status, or bank account condition.

    But, when I left my job and other external things fell apart, so did my value. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

    In short, I had confused self-confidence with self-esteem. Oops!

    Here’s what I mean by this:

    Self-confidence is about trusting yourself and your abilities. For example, you can be confident in one area, such as cooking, dancing, or communicating, but then insecure in another, such as dancing or public speaking.

    Self-esteem, on the other hand, is about how you see yourself. It’s about your perception of your worth. No matter what happens on the outside, do you treat yourself with love, care, and respect or not?

    As a high-achiever, it’s easy to trick yourself and think you have self-esteem. I mean, as long as you perform and do well, it’s all good, right?

    Yeah, until you don’t. That’s when the sh*t hits the fan…

    When I realized that I saw myself as less worthy, cool, and interesting because of my external circumstances, I decided this wasn’t good enough for me. And it shouldn’t be good enough for you either, if this resonates. As they say, your biggest breakdowns often become your greatest breakthroughs.

    So, I got to work. This time, not by proving my value, but by practicing self-love. Below are some of the most powerful ways I’ve discovered to do just that:

    1. Focus on being someone who loves.

    If you’re in a place today where you don’t love yourself, it’s hard to take a quantum leap and become someone who does. Just like when you’re building muscles, self-love takes consistent practice.

    Instead of loving yourself, focus on being someone who loves. That is, allow love to flow through you as often as possible. Focus on what you love about the people you meet. Focus on what you appreciate while going to the store, sitting in a meeting, or while speaking to someone. Simply, adjust your body to positive emotions by finding as many things to love and appreciate as possible.

    2. Tap into what it looks and feels like to be loved.

    It’s easy to be loving toward ourselves when things go as planned, when we succeed and people like us. Not so much when stuff falls apart, we screw up or get rejected. When we struggle the most, that’s also when we tend to be hardest on ourselves.

    In those moments, ask yourself how someone who loves you deeply you would act. What would they say? What would they do? How would they behave? Odds are, they wouldn’t criticize, judge, and berate you. They’d offer you kindness, compassion, and acceptance. If you can’t think about a specific person or memory, imagine how the most loving human on this planet would be toward you. Then practice being that toward yourself.

    3. Stop comparing yourself.

    Comparison is a killer to self-love. And we aren’t usually very nice when it comes to comparisons, right? Instead, we take our greatest flaws and compare them to someone else’s greatest success. In short, you’re doomed to fail.

    Instead, realize that you write your story. Realize that you can’t compare your life to someone else’s because no matter how well you know them, you never know how they feel or how they perceive their life. Instead, spend your time and energy to nourish and build your path.

    4. Take baby steps to create the life you long for.

    Desires are powerful. And so, to take action turn those dreams into reality is to honor and care for yourself. By taking daily actions, you signal that you’re worthy of living the life you desire.

    It doesn’t have to be big action—just small and consistent steps in the direction that stirs joy, care, and excitement. This demonstrates that you care and respect your dreams and thus yourself. Has there ever been a better time to do that than now?

    5. Ask your guidance system for help.

    Imagine that your emotions are guiding you. When you feel good about yourself, it means that what you’re thinking is aligned with how your soul/higher self sees you. When you feel bad about yourself, it’s a red flag telling you that a change of perspective is needed

    If you think a thought such as “I am [something you don’t like about yourself],” how does that feel? Probably not so good, right? Then it’s a sign to think a different thought. Try to replace that with something kinder. For example, “I’m just so lost and confused” can be replaced with “I’m doing the best I can to move forward.”

    6. Surround yourself with people you feel good with.

    Oh, this is an important one! You may have heard Jim Rohn’s famous quote before: “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” Think about who those people currently are. Do they inspire, fill you up, and want what’s best for you?

    Just because you’ve been friends doesn’t mean you need to keep spending time together. Just because you’re taking a break from someone, doesn’t mean you won’t be close again. Be picky about who you spend your time with—don’t give it away in the spirit of mercy. (That’s not nice, neither to you or the other person). Be there because you want to; otherwise, don’t.

    7. Be compassionate when sh*t hits the fan.

    So many of us (myself included) tend to beat ourselves down when we need our love the most. When we fail or screw up or someone rejects us, that’s the time we often get even more down on ourselves. Beating someone who’s lying down, sounds fair? Um, nope.

    So instead, choose to be most loving and forgiving with yourself when things don’t go as planned. When you stumble and fall. When you say the wrong things. When someone rejects you or a project fails. Ask yourself what you need and then spray that all over yourself.

    8. Make room for healthy habits.

    Yep yep! Start truly caring for yourself by mirroring that in what you eat, how you exercise, and what you spend time doing. Do stuff, not to “get it done” or because you “have to,” but because you care about you.

    Don’t feel like going to the gym? Then maybe put on a soul-soothing podcast and go for a walk. Create habits that are healthy, not just mentally but also emotionally.

    9. Postpone your worry and negative thoughts.

    Are you ready for a really great tip? If so, then get excited. A very powerful technique I recently discovered is called a “worry-free month” (named it myself). Think about how much of your worry that actually serves you. Sure, some of the worry has a purpose, as it tends to give us a little kick when we need to get our sh*t together and start acting.

    But, my guess is that 97% of it is useless. Whenever those thoughts enter your mind, tell them, “Thanks, but I’ll deal with this next month.” By telling your mind that you’ll deal with it later (plus saying when), you stop feeding negative thoughts and thus decrease its momentum. Then, you simply do this month after month.

    10. Accept what you cannot love.

    This might have been the greatest game-changer for me. Because let’s face it: It’s easy to love what you love about yourself and not so easy with the things you don’t. So, instead of even aiming to love those parts, which will probably just make your mind go “Are you kidding me?”, focus on accepting them.

    One thing I’ve had a hard time accepting about myself is that at times, and for no real reason, I can get very nervous. Simple things, such as going to the supermarket can feel very difficult. Instead of rejecting or trying to love this nervous side of myself, I’m reminding myself to accept it. When it happens, I’ll tell myself something along the lines of “It’s okay, I can be nervous going to the supermarket today. It’s not the end of the world.”

    You don’t need to love everything about yourself to develop self-love; all you need is acceptance. Next time something happens that makes you want to get down on yourself, see this as your practice to accept what is.

    Care for the World by Caring for Yourself’

    Life is full of ups and down. Health can transfer into disease. Successes can be turned into collapses. Romantic love can be transformed into coldness. But, no matter what happens on the outside, we can still have a solid foundation built on self-love.

    Self-love isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity in today’s society. So, start implementing some of the practices above and most of all, have compassion with yourself when you fall short. Then simply brush yourself off and get back into it again. As they say, practice makes perfect.

    Finally, realize that by caring for yourself, you care for this world. Your actions have a ripple effect on others.

  • The One Realization That Helped Me Forgive Myself and My Father

    The One Realization That Helped Me Forgive Myself and My Father

    “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
    ~Maya Angelou

    Sunlight shone through the living room window. A lazy Sunday afternoon. I lounged on the couch reading a book with my dog cuddled at my feet. My love had just set out to purchase a new set of acoustic guitar strings. Soon he would return, and music would fill our home, adding to my sense of blissful peace.

    The telephone rang. I could see from the caller ID it was my father. “Good,” I thought. “It’s been a few weeks. I wonder what he’s been up to.”

    His voice was filled with rage. “I’m dying!” he screamed. “You are killing me.”

    “What’s this about?” I placed my book on the table. I was not alarmed; my father has been talking about his death for decades. I was only curious how his heart condition had suddenly become my doing.

    “Did you get a marriage certificate yet?” he asked angrily.

    “No,” I said. “We haven’t. That isn’t happening.”

    My father erupted again. “I’ll probably have another stroke! My arms are tingling. It could be a heart attack—heart attack number three. This one will be your fault. I can’t sleep. I can’t even take a shit. I ate two bowls of fiber yesterday and nothing came out of me.”

    “That’s not my fault.”

    “It is your fault! The anxiety is killing me. Get the marriage certificate, please. It’s what normal people do. If you don’t get that thing, it’ll be the official cause of my death.”

    “You should talk to someone about this. A therapist maybe.”

    “I’m not talking to anybody.”

    “Then pray,” I said. “Meditate.”

    He was silent for a moment, then he scoffed at me. “I’ll go to Afghanistan. I’ll become a missionary. I’ll kill as many ragheads as I can before they capture me. You know how my dad died?”

    I did, but I knew I was going to hear the story again.

    “The snow was deep that morning. There’d just been a big Chicago blizzard. He asked me to shovel the driveway, but I went out with my buddies instead. He died that morning of a heart attack while he was shoveling. I’ve lived with that guilt for over 50 years. I’ll never forgive myself. You’re going to live with the guilt of killing me. Never forget that. I’m planting that in your head right now.”

    “That’s not a nice thing to do. I’m not the one killing you. Your own mind is doing the killing.”

    “It’s you.”

    “There’s no reason for you to be so upset.”

    “You’re not even really married!”

    “That doesn’t matter to us. We’re happy the way things are. If it helps bring you peace, just pretend we never had any kind of ceremony. Pretend we’re still dating.”

    “You know what? I’m done with you.” My father hung up the phone.

    —

    This was not the first time I’d been disowned by my father. I can count on both hands the times he’d chosen to end his relationship with me—sometimes for months, sometimes for years—always because a lifestyle choice on my end didn’t align with how he thought I should be living (e.g.: when I became a vegetarian, or traveled to Morocco, or lived with a gay roommate…)

    In truth, I was surprised that earlier that month after I first told my father that my boyfriend and I had flown to Scotland for a hand-fasting ceremony, he had expressed actual happiness and excitement for me. “Congratulations!” he’d beamed. “I’m happy for you guys. Those pictures of the Highlands are beautiful. What a beautiful country.”

    I remember thinking, “Well, that went well. That could have gone in so many directions. I’m glad he’s happy for me.”

    And I’m sure he was, in that moment, until his chronic anxiety returned—and he didn’t know how to deal with it other than to blame me.

    If my father died tomorrow, would I feel guilty? Would I blame myself for his death?

    No, I would not.

    I would be devastated. He’s my father; I love him dearly, despite our differences. He raised me as best he could, and I am grateful for that.

    But I will not accept responsibility for the mental anguish from which he suffers. The choices my father makes that support his unhealthy ways have nothing to do with me.

    We—the rest of the family—have tried for years to help him, but he refuses to change his habits: the poor eating (he just developed type 2 diabetes), the rejection of exercise, the harmful outbursts toward others, the fearful world he’s created inside his head.

    To be clear: I do not discount the severity of anxiety, depression, or PTSD. I’ve battled with depression myself; I understand it’s not as simple as “thinking positively” or “snapping out of it.” It often requires careful and tender care—whether that care is spiritual, therapeutic, medical, or a combination of the three. However, it is my belief that an illness of the mind is not an acceptable justification for emotionally, psychologically, or physically abusive behaviors.

    That’s all I’ll say about mental health because 1) I’m not a doctor and 2) this is not meant to be a story about illness; this is an exploration of forgiveness.

    As far as my father’s situation is concerned, I require no self-forgiveness. I will not regret the way I have always loved and accepted him.

    I will feel sad that he never forgave himself for his own father’s death. He was just 16 the winter his dad died from that heart attack. My father hadn’t known any better.

    And I will feel sad that my father never forgave himself for some of the choices he made as a soldier during the Vietnam War. He would never admit that those actions require any level of self-forgiveness, but I think the remorse is buried somewhere deep inside his heart—perhaps somewhere alongside his acceptance of me.

    Forgiveness is a tricky thing.

    It wasn’t difficult for me to forgive my father for the emotional violence he discharged upon our family over the years, ultimately causing my mother to leave him, and contributing to the struggles shared by my sister and me as we fumbled through adulthood attempting to construct better paradigms of what healthy relationships with men could be (i.e. we learned we didn’t need to tolerate crazy tantrums, or tiptoe on eggshells to prevent unpredictable sieges on peace.)

    But we didn’t blame our dad. We acknowledged his influence, forgave him for being imperfect, and moved on with our lives.

    I find this to be true with many human beings: forgiving others isn’t the hardest part. Forgiving ourselves is where we struggle.

    Self-forgiveness is directly tied to self-acceptance. The more we learn to forgive ourselves for our imperfections and growing pains, the more love and acceptance we allow our hearts to feel toward ourselves and others. I believe that if my father truly loved and accepted himself, it would be easier for him to peacefully love and accept those around him. Perhaps that serenity begins with self-forgiveness.

    Where there is forgiveness, there is acceptance, and where there is acceptance, there is peace.

    One of my sweet friends is struggling with the guilt from two abortions she had a decade ago. The trauma surrounding the events re-surfaced in her life last year, and she cried in my arms wondering if she’d ever be able to forgive herself.

    I told her it wasn’t helpful to hold ourselves hostage to the past. Guilt is not necessary as a reminder of our less-than-perfect decisions; we can learn from the past and make better choices moving forward, without weighing ourselves down with shame.

    —

    I woke up one morning recently and didn’t want to get out of bed. I’d become plagued by all the little lies I’d ever told to those who loved me.

    And what of the illusions I’d built in my own head? The ways I lied to me?

    Or the decisions I’d made thinking of self-preservation, instead of the greatest good?

    I dwelled in remorse until I realized: in each of those situations—I’d done the best I could at the time.

    I realized I wasn’t the same person I was five years ago, two years ago, or even yesterday. And the self-punishment I was putting myself through was not going to change anything. The best I could do was forgive the younger, less-wise, less aware version of myself, then move forward as a wiser, more evolved human being.

    I climbed out of bed and sat in front of my altar, placing both hands over my heart. I sent a blessing to everyone in my life, then to all sentient beings. Then I did something I rarely ever do and probably should do more often: I closed my eyes, filled my palms with light and warmth, and gave a blessing to myself.

    I forgave myself for any strategy, plan, or chess game played during the end of difficult relationships, when I was negotiating the safest and calmest way to exit to my freedom. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    I forgave myself for misinterpreting dreams, visions, intuitions, and strong feelings. Sometimes I wanted so badly for something to be true, I pushed it the extra mile in the direction of the Truth-horizon, when all the while it was meant to remain in a field of uncertainty. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    I forgave myself for disconnecting from the people, places, and experiences that didn’t nurture my spirit or bring me peace. Those people may have felt abandoned or unsure why I’d suddenly felt the need to change my life in a way that no longer involved them—and my explanations hadn’t satisfied their questioning. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    I forgave myself for the times I hadn’t revealed the full truth in sticky situations—I’d held details back in fear that their exposure would lead to my own abandonment. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    And perhaps the biggest one: I forgave myself for once staying in a relationship my soul knew was not meant to last. I’d gone so far with a man in the ‘wrong’ direction—all the while knowing I was heading in the wrong direction, but still needing to make the journey. And once I’d finally arrived in a life that wasn’t mine—after investing so much time, love, and energy—my soul begged me to leave but I stayed longer, still, because my tender heart wasn’t ready to go.

    I forgave myself for that epic journey and released the guilt I felt for leaving the man who’d been by my side all that time. He had felt at home in that direction, and I left him behind, to follow a path that was truly mine. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    —

    “You had difficult decisions to make,” I’d told my sweet, crying friend. “You did the best you could. You don’t need to wipe the events from your memory, but give yourself permission to let go of the guilt you feel. Once you forgive yourself, you’ll be lighter and more capable of movement and transformation.”

    “Lightness of being,” my sweet friend said. “I’d like to achieve that.”

    And she did. And we do. Every time we forgive—each other and ourselves.

  • 5 Practices That Helped Me Reclaim My Spark for Life

    5 Practices That Helped Me Reclaim My Spark for Life

    “Sometimes what you’re most afraid of doing is the very thing that will set you free.” ~Robert Tew

    In 2014, I was drowning in unhappiness. I had moved to Palestine five years earlier, later met my husband, and decided to remain in one of the most conflicted countries in the world.

    There I was, living in a different country far from the comforts of home that I had always known. My marriage was rife with conflict and pain, and I had nobody to turn to.

    I had no family nearby, and with the high turnover of internationals in the country, many of the friends I’d made had left to go back to their home countries, leaving me behind.

    My fear and shame around the difficulties in my marriage kept me from sharing my struggles with the few friends that remained. My friendships felt shallow, and I felt more and more isolated and alone.

    In that time, I looked back at myself in college and wondered where that carefree girl who was so sure of herself had gone. Not only did I feel like I had lost everything I held dear, but somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself.

    I pretended everything was okay, not only to others but also to myself.

    I distinctly remember the day I woke up to my own reality. I was attending a four-day yoga workshop with my teacher, David Sye. As I moved my body to the music, I felt alive!

    It was the best I had felt in years. Maybe even the best I had felt my entire life.

    I realized then and there that I was unhappy. Something was keeping me from feeling that energy in the rest of my life.

    At first, I was terrified that if I admitted I was unhappy, my life would fall apart. Instead, I embarked on a journey into the body-mind-emotional connection that led to true and lasting healing.

    This journey led me to discover the root pain that was really behind my unhappiness at this time: I had an addiction to perfectionism and a fear of failure that stemmed from a deep feeling of not being good enough.

    As I delved deeper, I found out that this fear stemmed from my early childhood relationship with my parents and the Midwest Christian community in which I grew up.

    Although there were many wonderful things about this community, there was also a lot of pressure to do what you “should”—to not make mistakes and lead the perfect life.

    This attitude found its way into my family. We rarely talked about negative things in our own lives or between us. Instead, we addressed difficult emotions through sarcasm rather than an honest acknowledgement of the needs behind those emotions.

    Since certain emotions were labeled as negative and not addressed, I grew up feeling that I was only good enough if I didn’t feel negative emotions such as anger, guilt, and shame. Therefore, I developed a need to be perfect and a constant fear of failure.

    I was able to cover this up most of my life. Whatever I was good at, I focused on and excelled at. My success gave me confidence. My confidence, however, did not come from being true to myself but came from doing what I thought would look good to others and make me feel special.

    My shaky confidence all fell apart when I was out of my comfort zone in a new country and didn’t have access to all the things I had attached to my identity. To make matters worse, these childhood issues came up in my relationship with my husband and resulted in poor communication and anger. Moreover, I felt great guilt and shame for not having the perfect marriage.

    When I finally admitted to being unhappy, this facade of perfectionism lifted, and I could open up to seeing these wounds and discover the five practices that would heal them.

    I was able to forgive my parents, knowing that they did the best they could and could only teach me what they knew themselves when it came to dealing with emotions—those labeled both negative and positive.

    I was finally able to be vulnerable with others and try new things because I was free of the fear of failing.

    Two years later, my life had turned around. I had healed many of these wounds and felt freer than I ever felt before.

    I thought I had lost myself and who I used to be. I thought I was trying to find the person I was before. I didn’t know that in the end, I wouldn’t find myself. Instead, I would free myself from all that was holding me back.

    The five key practices that helped me do this and get my spark for life back were.

    1. Yoga

    Although I had practiced hatha and vinyasa yoga for several years, I mostly focused on the physical practice of asana. At this point, I added kundalini yoga into my practice a couple of times a week, and this helped me learn the connection between the body and emotions.

    I discovered that our emotions are simply physical reactions in the body. Without movement, these emotions can get stuck in the body and actually block our innate energy. In fact, emotions from our whole life can get stored in our body’s memory, meaning experiences we had as children can affect our daily lives now.

    Eventually, I learned how different poses can not only help me release emotions I am feeling now but how they can be a map to healing any of my struggles in life and freeing up my energy to live my fullest life.

    2. Guided meditation

    When I first started meditating, it was difficult to get myself to sit down even for five minutes. I was always afraid of how I would deal with nothingness.

    I found that having a guided meditation recording made me feel safe in knowing that someone would be there to help me through. I practiced mindfulness meditation, chakra meditations, and yoga nidra.

    Mindfulness meditation was the door into meditation for me. It helped me finally be able to sit and become more aware of what was going on in the present moment.

    Chakra meditations and yoga nidra allowed me to connect deep inside myself. They took me on a journey through the past experiences that were blocking my happiness and connected me to my true inner joy that was there no matter what was going on in life.

    3. Journaling

    Years before, I read The Artist’s Way and discovered the practice of morning pages. In the book, Julia Cameron recommends writing three pages of stream of consciousness writing every morning in order to release thoughts from the mind that are blocking creativity.

    I picked up this practice again and wrote three pages each day in my journal. Only this time, I wrote about my experiences in yoga and meditation. I wrote about the emotions that came out after I did certain yoga practices. I wrote about when I had experienced these emotions before. I wrote about the insights I had during my meditations.

    Journaling about my discoveries helped me to really process my thoughts and emotions and finally let go of past experiences and heal.

    4. Connecting with others

    A big part of the reason that I was unhappy was that I wasn’t open to sharing my struggles. I was afraid to show my vulnerabilities, and, therefore, I felt like nobody knew the real me. I felt alone and isolated.

    I took a baby step when I shared with my friend that something was wrong in life and I needed to turn it around. Then, I finally overcame my fear and shame and opened up to a couple other friends about the problems in my marriage.

    These two steps opened up a floodgate of people coming into my life that I could share with openly and honestly. Fortunately, these people were all proponents of taking care of your mental health, and I finally got counseling, both personally and as a couple.

    Having the support of others gave me strength to make big changes in my life. It also meant that I stopped pretending everything was okay and finally let people see the real me. They saw all my struggles but also all my beauty.

    5. Bringing creativity and pleasure back into my life

    I was always a musical person. During my childhood I’d played piano and sung in the school choir. Finding myself in a new country, suddenly I no longer had easy access to my usual outlets for creativity.

    When I realized how unhappy I was, I decided I needed to prioritize creativity and pleasure in order to feel that spark for life I once had felt. So I reached out once again to those friends I had newly opened up to and told them I had always wanted to learn to paint but was afraid that I wasn’t good enough.

    We then came up with the idea to have art nights together. There was only one rule: it didn’t matter how good we were, we would embrace our inner child and just play with colors and materials.

    These art nights reconnected me with the joy I had been missing and opened the doors for me to allow pleasure back into all areas of my life.

    —

    Through my daily yoga and meditation practice, I discovered more about who I truly was and what was essential for my happiness. I found myself surrounded with deep friendships, people with whom I could explore creativity and share all of my struggles and triumphs. I fulfilled one of my deepest dreams of becoming a yoga teacher.

    Most importantly, I learned that a true spark for life comes from a place of deep acceptance of oneself and the ability to find contentment and joy with life as it is now.

    These five practices became essential for me to continue to come back to my true self and deepen my self-acceptance. They are practices I come back to each day. Especially when stress and difficulties start to build, I know these practices will help me regain my spark for life—that feeling of deep joy and gratitude for all that life has to offer.

  • 5 Ways to Calm Your Mind When You’re Exhausted (Without Meditation)

    5 Ways to Calm Your Mind When You’re Exhausted (Without Meditation)

    “Calm your mind. Life becomes much easier when you keep your mind at peace.” ~Unknown

    Let me start with a confession.

    If I’m honest with you, even just writing these words actually makes me feel kind of uncomfortable.

    But I’m going to say it because it’s true, and some of you reading this are going to realize that on some level you probably share the same feeling.

    I hate meditation.

    Now, let me do the obligatory defend-the-shocking-thing-I-just-said.

    I mean, to be more specific, some days I hate meditation.

    Most of the time, I love it. I really love it. It’s had the most positive influence of anything in my entire life. But so have my family, and some days… just joking. Look, normally meditation makes me feel on top of the world. I’m bursting with gratitude, and even the idea of stress can seem to be so far away.

    But on other days, I do also kind of hate it. Actually, hate is too strong, let me say I really dislike it. I’m sure some of you can relate.

    But there’s a reason we feel this way at times: exhaustion.

    About six months ago, my meditation practice had been going well. I was feeling incredibly content, just with life in general. But after a couple of weeks of travel, difficulties with work, and family commitments, I found myself tired, very tired. And my mind started racing a lot more than it had been.

    Mentally, I felt like I had lost my inner calm. Like I’d taken one step forward and two steps back.

    So I tried to do what I always do. Meditate.

    But for a couple of weeks, I was approaching the practice with completely the wrong attitude. I started trying to use meditation as my medication, and it had the opposite intended effect. It just wouldn’t work! I actually started to get completely annoyed with the whole thing.

    So I tried harder, and harder, and harder. Every day I would sit down to meditate, only to leave the session feeling even more tired than when I had started.

    It was at this point that I decided to shift my focus to other ways to calm my mind, at least until I had more energy.

    And I realized a few very important things.

    Firstly, I realized that I truly am in love with meditation. Even when I ‘hated’ it, I still wanted to practice consistently, and followed through with it.

    But I also understood that in times of stress, we can sometimes start to resent things we love. I understood that although I’ve barely missed a day of meditation in the last couple of years, I’m still a human being in a human body and I’m going to have days where I feel like I’m back where I started.

    I also came to realize that a calm mind is a focused mind, and a tired mind doesn’t have the resources to stay focused.

    It’s an unfortunate reality of the human brain that the more fatigued we are, the more our thoughts start to race. Anxiety and tiredness work on a feedback loop. So when you’re struggling with one, it’s inevitable that you’re going to have problems with the other.

    While meditation is the most effective way to calm your mind, it’s not an option when you’re incredibly tired! There is another way to do this, which is by doing things that naturally focus your mind outside of yourself and guide your brain to release calming neurochemicals.

    The following five ways to calm your mind don’t require as much mental energy as meditation. And in the short term, they have the same effect on our mood.

    1. Do something complex (but not too difficult).

    The default mode network (DMN) is the part of the brain that is associated with reflections about yourself. Thoughts like: “Why do I feel lazy today?” “Should I text John back now or later?” “I’m starting to get hungry, maybe I should get a snack.” Meditation researchers call this “mind-wandering.” It takes up a huge portion of our waking life.

    When we’re tired or anxious, our minds wander more than usual, which makes us more tired and anxious.

    There are two commonly used ways we can consistently quiet the DMN. The first is meditation; the second is engaging in a complex task. (In fact, mindfulness coloring books are effective because of task complexity as well mindfulness.)

    You can pick something you regularly do, like drawing, sports, creative writing, or a work project and just increase the difficulty slightly. With drawing, for example, you can try and draw something that is more of a challenge, or with sports or writing, you can try setting a timer and complete a task in a limited time period.

    2. Do something for someone else.

    This is another way we can get out of our own heads when exhaustion starts to set in. Obviously, you don’t want to do anything too strenuous, but even doing simple things, when focusing on others, can quiet a racing mind.

    You can make it a habit to contact someone that you feel may need it, or you can spend some time volunteering or building something that you think can help others. Focusing on the well-being of the community can also give us purpose and meaning, which can be very reinvigorating.

    3. Do something fun and creative.

    When we are trying too hard to feel better all the effort can defeat the purpose and be kind of damaging. Doing something fun can help us break the cycle. This is because dopamine has a re-energizing effect on the nervous system and by engaging in play and creativity, we recharge our depleted energy reserves.

    Sometimes for example, I like to do free-writing mind maps. Essentially you set a timer for fifteen minutes and just let all your thoughts out on paper, and create mind maps for how they relate to each other. You can do this as a mindfulness exercise or just to express any creative ideas you have. This helps you feel like your thoughts are organized and focused and not scattered and distracted.

    Trying to do anything artistic like painting, origami, or even lego (if you have kids) can also be effective. Fortunately, YouTube has millions of tutorials if you want to learn something new.

    4. Get some exercise and take a long sleep.

    Exercise may seem counter-productive when you’re tired, but when we’re mentally exhausted, it can sometimes start to mess with our sleep. This varies slightly depending on each individual, but is largely because exhaustion and anxiety impact our ability to wind down before bed, which is a critical part of good quality sleep. Unconscious worries can also wake us in the night and stop us from getting into the deep states we need.

    By exercising, eating a big and healthy meal, and taking a long sleep, you can get the restorative effects that you need. This isn’t an invitation to oversleep, but if it’s been a while since you got some deep rest, it could be exactly what you need. It’s also useful to create a pre-sleep ritual that involves calming down and not looking at any screens for two to three hours before sleeping.

    5. Do something social.

    This goes for introverts as well as extroverts. It’s a common belief that introverts are drained by social interactions, but typically this is only when interacting with people they’re not comfortable with.

    If you’re an introvert, make the effort be social with someone who you always have fun with. When we’re engaged in a social situation that is fun, and not anxiety-inducing, we naturally get out of our own heads and begin to recharge our batteries.

    Meditation is great for calming our minds, and while you should keep trying to meditate even through rough periods, it can be good to have some short-term solutions to help you get your energy back.

    Have you ever felt this way with meditation? How else have you tried to quieten your mind? Let us know in the comments!

  • Letting Go of the Victim Label: The Past Will Not Define Me

    Letting Go of the Victim Label: The Past Will Not Define Me

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with an account of domestic violence and sexual abuse, and may be triggering to some people.

    “Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out.” ~Unknown

    It wasn’t long ago that I lived my life as a professional victim.

    It wasn’t intentional, but somewhere along the way I had internalized the fact that my victimhood gave me an excuse to remain stuck. As long as I was a victim, I had a reason to wallow in sadness and self-pity, a reason to not move forward, and sympathy that was poured upon me like praise—because no one wants to shame the victim, right? So I put on my victim’s Badge of Honor and remained firmly planted in the past.

    The thing about being a victim is that it doesn’t end there. Resentment is not far behind, and I soon found myself immersed in resentment. After all, I never asked to be born into a household filled with domestic violence, nor did I ask be molested by someone I shared the same bloodline with, but it happened, and I resented it.

    In my mind, no one could understand what it was like to live in constant fear of the day that your mother would be murdered. No one could understand the hopelessness that comes with feeling unsafe day after day. But I did.

    I knew what it felt like to be awakened in the middle of the night by screaming voices, dishes crashing against walls, or the volume on the TV up as high as it could go, because if he was angry, no one was getting a good night’s sleep.

    I knew what it was like to wish for death, because death was better than terror.

    I knew what it felt like to live in a household where everyone walked on eggshells because the alternative was an encounter with rage.

    I knew what it felt like to have a dysfunctional childhood while others had what I thought to be a fairytale life, and I resented it.

    I could not reconcile why some children were born into wealth and privilege and I was not. I did not understand why my family, which should have been a safe haven, was the exact opposite. Why were some children loved and adored, and I molested and used? It wasn’t fair, and I wasn’t going to let life, or anyone who would listen, forget it.

    I didn’t ask for that life, I was a victim, and had earned the right to complain about it as much as I saw fit. I did not realize that I had the power to overcome everything I had experienced, and maybe there was a part of me that didn’t really want to. I knew who I was with my experiences, but what was my identity without those stories? It was time that I found out.

    It took a while for me to even realize that I needed to let go of the victim label, but thankfully the day came. It became too much effort to be sad and depressed about something that happened, and was not changing.

    I began to read every self-help book I could find in hopes that one of them held the key to my emotional relief. I began attending counseling sessions and put forth the necessary effort to get the most out of each session. Then, one day it happened. I woke up knowing enough was enough.

    No, life wasn’t fair, but this was the only life I had, and I had better make the most of it. I knew that in order for me to move forward, I had to accept this fact. My experience was my experience, and nothing was going to change what happened to me, but I could surely change how I responded to it.

    The first thing I did was remove toxic people from my life. I understood that as a child I had little control over the people I was exposed to, but as an adult, it was my responsibility to set strong boundaries, even if that meant removing some people.

    This was no easy task, and I immediately felt waves of fear and guilt. I was so used to not having boundaries, and being expected to accept bad behavior just because it came from family. Still, I followed through with my plan to set boundaries or to sever ties completely.

    Next, I began to follow the advice I had received from literally hundreds of self-help books. I began to retrain my mind from the mentality of a victim, to one of strength, poise, and success.

    Almost immediately, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and began to feel empowered and capable. Yes, I had bad experiences growing up, and yes, those experiences affected my life, but I did not have to let them define me.

    I worked diligently to change my self-talk and I was very intentional about ensuring that I would make the most of my life. I had wasted enough years existing, and I knew that it was time to start living.

    Retraining my mind became my full-time focus, as I knew that all success starts in the mind. I continued with counseling and was told that I had a form of post-traumatic stress disorder, which was evident from my having nightmares about the abuse in my home, even though I was an adult and in a safe place.

    I learned how witnessing domestic abuse and being molested affected my self-esteem, the way I viewed relationships, and the way I viewed the world.

    I learned that none of it was my fault, and that I did not have to continue to tell myself those stories. I had new stories to tell. We all do. You too, can move past the pain and hurt you have endured in this lifetime. You can forgive, even if you never forget, and you can move forward. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.

    My transformation didn’t happen overnight, and neither will yours. I spent years studying the power of the mind, and being intentional in my desire to turn my life around.

    Today I am free of toxic relationships and toxic thoughts. I’ve replaced my victim badge with a crown of success, love, self-confidence, and peace. And I replaced self-pity and sadness with a fierce determination to live my best life, free of resentment.

    I recently met a man who told me he has found happiness all his life by learning to “play the hand he was dealt.” I smiled, because I had come into the wisdom that this is truly the only way to live, because “Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out.” The choice is ours to make.

  • Why Trying to Feel Good Can Make You Feel Bad

    Why Trying to Feel Good Can Make You Feel Bad

    “The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times.” ~Paulo Coelho

    We’re bombarded by images of people living apparently perfect lives. They suffer no bereavements or breakups or losses or failures. They look perfect, make perfect choices, and act perfect.

    Everyone seems to love them as they sail from success to success, with zero misfortunes, mistakes, or regrets.

    So, it’s easy to believe that we, too, need to be perfect.

    I had a simple definition of success when I was younger. It was whatever made others admire, or at least accept me.

    So, I aimed for better jobs. This was defined in terms of salary.

    As a young doctor, I started out in a poorly paid job. I made it through a PhD, then an MBA. The research was impactful, but what excited me as much was that doors opened to me.

    Instead of me chasing jobs, they started chasing me. I sought to double my salary. When that happened, I sought to double it again.

    This game kept going, and to the world I was a success. My mother took pride in telling people what I did.

    My life at home told a different story.

    I had to travel a lot at a time when our children were young. Even though I tried to confine that to a week at a time, I was becoming a stranger to them.

    A simple incident proved to be a turning point.

    I was in our sitting room going through some notes before setting out for work. Our young son was playing. He became noisier and noisier.

    My mind was on my notes, and his was on his play.

    Then he started running up and down the sitting room. It was going well for him until I reacted.

    He was probably imitating some noisy vehicle or airplane. At least that’s what it sounded like to me, as I tried to concentrate on my notes.

    As he ran past me, I put my arm out to stop him.

    Unfortunately, my adult arm was like a wall to him. Our little boy hit my arm and fell to the floor.

    This remains one of the incidents I’m deeply ashamed of.

    He burst into tears, and my partner rushed to pick him up and comfort him.

    My job continued to be center stage, but the scales were starting to fall from my eyes.

    I tried to make it up to him, visiting a motor show together. He loved the shiny cars, including the one Michael Schumacher had driven in the Formula One championship.

    As he held my hand throughout our motor show visit, I began to experience more deeply the meaning of the saying “Love makes the world go round.”

    The piles of responsibilities in my job began to weigh on me more heavily. I was walking a tightrope of stress, irritability, and worry.

    A routine medical exam confirmed what I had suspected: I was an unfit, overweight wreck, in need of medication to keep my heart and circulation in working order. Our family life was far from the ideal picture that our beautiful home must have presented to the world. I was a well-paid but emotionally exhausted wreck.

    We talked it over and my partner was very clear. Our family life too was beginning to resemble a wreck. The money was simply not worth it.

    We should uproot ourselves and make a new life, whatever that brought.

    Since then, I’ve been through many years of life experiences.

    I went from being an absentee parent to making time to play with our children nearly every day. That remains one of the greatest sources of satisfaction to me.

    I went from measuring success in purely financial terms to a wider definition of success. The spark that had gone out of our marriage was rekindled and the embers grew steadily into a new romance.

    My passion for music making had been put on the back burner for years, but I’ve since nurtured it. I try to make some time each day to create music, and have had the good fortune to perform and record with some great musicians.

    I started converting all my medical and scientific knowledge into practical actions. I lost inches from my waist and no longer needed any medication.

    However, the biggest changes occurred in my inner life.

    Stress, irritability, and worry used to bother me. I don’t mean just in terms of experiencing them. I mean being annoyed and angry with myself for not feeling good at all times.

    Aren’t we all meant to try and feel good all the time? Isn’t that what makes a good life? Isn’t constant happiness our highest ideal?

    We look online or in glossy magazines and see celebrities smiling and laughing on the red carpet. We see sages and gurus glowing. We see so many apparently perfect people living perfect lives.

    Why can’t we feel good all the time?

    I’ve come to understand that there’s something beyond happiness, something more substantial than a passing emotion.

    It’s the joy of doing what you consider to be important and good. It involves recognizing what really matters to you. It involves gladly losing what is less important.

    It’s living in better alignment with what you value, deep in your heart.

    Does this bring good feelings all the time? No.

    Sometimes it brings stress, as when you have to speak out for what you believe is right even when that’s against the tide. Or when you have to keep going when you’d rather give up. Or when you have to give up when you’d rather keep going.

    Sometimes it brings low moods, as when everything seems to be going wrong. The stock market crashes, you lose a valued assignment, your friend has a misunderstanding with you, you have a raging argument with your partner, your treasured outcomes simply don’t happen, people don’t keep their word to you, or are spiteful to you, and so on.

    Sometimes it brings fear, as when you have to try something you’re not entirely comfortable with or take risks that seem too big. Even the prospect of failure can bring fear.

    Sometimes it brings guilt and shame, as when you do something you deeply regret or fail to keep your word.

    Sometimes it brings self-doubt, as when everyone else is going left and you’re going right in life.

    One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that the more you struggle to avoid difficult feelings, the worse life can get.

    Imagine a great runner. On the track, the runner is invincible. They want to be invincible everywhere.

    Put that same runner in quicksand and they’re in trouble.

    The more they try to run their way out of the quicksand, the deeper they sink.

    The way to cope with quicksand is to stop struggling and lie back. Eventually you’ll be rescued.

    It can be the same with difficult feelings. After a point, they become like quicksand. Struggling with them beyond that point just sucks you in deeper.

    It’s good to reach for pleasant feelings when they’re within easy reach.

    However, when you start beating yourself up for feeling bad, then it’s time to remember quicksand.

    Sometimes it’s better to lie back and float than to try and swim. This means allowing yourself to feel the full range of human emotions.

    This doesn’t mean wallowing in your feelings. It means just letting them be. Not struggling with them.

    You can still do what you consider to be good and important, within your capabilities. That helps take the sting out of difficult feelings.

    That helps bring a profound joy that is beyond fleeting emotions.

    It’s a kinder, gentler, and more fulfilling way of living. It’s great for your wellbeing, especially when life gets difficult.

    Recently our grown-up children joined us for a short family break. We were on a deserted beach. Our son picked up a flat pebble and made it skim the water.

    Soon, we were all competing to see who could get the most bounces.

    I stood back for a moment, watching the scene, and thought to myself: life doesn’t get much better than this.

    I wish I’d known as an unfit and emotionally exhausted forty-year-old what I know as a fit and joyful sixty-year-old. But they say sixty is the new forty. So it’s never too late, or too early, to start living better.

  • What to Do If You’re Not Passionate About Anything

    What to Do If You’re Not Passionate About Anything

    “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” ~Unknown

    I’ve always believed in the benefits of having a healthy, strong body.

    I admit, as a young adult my healthiness was driven predominantly by fear. Fear of being fat. Fear of being sick. Fear of missing out at events (aka FOMO).

    So, I went to the gym, I ran, I dieted, I had strict rules, and if I followed them I’d be okay… or so believed.

    From my daughter’s perspective, I wasn’t much fun to live with. She preferred reading and dabbled in ballet and horse riding. But the gym? Definitely not. Running? Hell no!

    So, I did what any fear-driven mom would do. I exerted my will. I forced her to participate. Because I knew better! Didn’t I?

    I coerced, cajoled, and even threatened.

    In my limited view, she was simply being lazy. Nothing that a bit of “discipline” couldn’t fix, right?

    She’d eventually do it. Begrudgingly. Just to get me off her back. And, no surprise, she hated it (and, probably, me too).

    With hindsight, I now see just how much I contributed to her deep-rooted dislike of physical sports. Guilty as charged.

    Over the years, as we both grew up (yup, me too), I learned about passions. And about how different it supposedly feels to participate in anything from a place of “passion.” Until then, it was theoretical. Something I had yet to experience.

    And then I found trail running.

    Yes, I already loved running (on tar), but running in nature, preferably on a mountain, transforms the experience. Completely.

    When I’m running on a trail, I’m fully engaged in the moment. I’m in awe of my surroundings. And I totally lose track of time.

    That’s what passion feels like.

    No rules, no effort. Just pleasure.

    I was thirty-seven when I “found” my passion. I wasn’t looking, it found me. When I was ready. When I allowed it.

    The wiser side of me realized that this formula applied to everyone. Including my daughter.

    I needed to drastically change my approach with her.

    So, I eased up on my controlling ways. It was her path to walk, after all. Whether she found her passion (or not), was none of my business. I simply backed off. It was hard.

    A year or so ago, my daughter announced that she was taking up surfing. Completely out of the blue.

    She’d never really been an avid beach goer. Or outdoorsy. It simply wasn’t her thing.

    So, not surprisingly, I was fairly skeptical. I assumed she’d been influenced by a friend, or was following a trend. This would be another hit-and-miss.

    But she wasn’t influenced. And it wasn’t a hit-and-miss.

    In fact, she loves it. Completely.

    Yup, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

    And, for once, I was pleased I was wrong.

    About six months in, we were chatting, and she announced, very excitedly, that she’d had an epiphany of sorts.

    I immediately zoned in. I love epiphanies!

    “’I’ve realized that surfing is actually exercise!” she said.

    “And yet I still love it!” she said further.

    This was big! She was thrilled!

    You see, until that moment, surfing had been simply a way to have fun. No rules. She hadn’t associated it with any of the limiting and uncomfortable feelings that automatically accompanied any form of exercise in her world.

    In fact, to put “love” and “exercise” in the same sentence was foreign for her. In every way.

    And that is the message here today.

    That when you’re passionate about anything, it’s easy. And fun. It’s something you anticipate. Feel eagerness for.

    And here’s your biggest clue.

    When you’re engaged in your passion, time, literally, has no meaning. Hours fly by, without you realizing they have.

    So, here’s the big question: how do we find our passion?

    I believe it’s easier than you think…

    Firstly, call off the search!

    When we’re searching for something that we feel is missing, our vibration is often one of lack.

    From lack, we approach opportunities with agendas, attachments, and expectations.

    And we’re so busy evaluating every experience that we forget to really engage it.

    We get caught up in our thinking.

    “Is this it? Is this my passion?”

    Relax! Don’t take it all so seriously.

    Secondly, start noticing and following your interests.

    What are you curious about? What do you find intriguing?

    What did you find fun when you were a teenager? That’s often a clue.

    Maybe playing a musical instrument? Participating in school theatre productions? Or singing? This list goes on…

    Explore those things.

    But do it for fun. Without the above agendas, or attachments.

    And thirdly, be open to new experiences.

    If we haven’t yet found our passion(s), it’s not yet in our current reality, obviously.

    Which means we need to try new things. Yay!

    So, be courageous. Be adventurous. Be curious.

    Say yes to invitations.

    Book clubs. Dinner. Hiking. Art galleries. Even dog shows!

    Just say yes.

    You can never tickle your fancy if you never grasp the feather.

    —

    Passions really are worth finding. And indulging.

    They’re the icing on the cake. The cherry on the top!

    They add value and depth to our lives.

    We all have them.

    And we can recognize them if we simply allow ourselves to.

    What have we got to lose?

  • How to Stop the War in Your Head and Find Peace

    How to Stop the War in Your Head and Find Peace

    “A mind at peace does not engender wars.” ~Sophocles

    There’s a classic Buddhist story about two monks who come upon a woman at the edge of a river. One of the monks carries her across and they continue on their way. Several miles on, the other monk turns to the first and says, “How could you do that? We have made vows never to touch a woman!” The first looks serenely at him. “Are you still carrying her? I set her down at the edge of the river.”

    This is exactly what our minds do, if we aren’t careful: We carry our upsets with us long after the original cause is over. (We also pick up imaginary burdens from a future that may never come.) It’s what I call “the war in your head.”

    You know what it feels like. On the surface, you are going about your day—at work, driving, shopping, watching TV. But in your mind you’re going over, maybe for the hundredth time, what your boss or neighbor or ex-spouse said last week. Or what they might say or do next week.

    Only a sliver of your attention is on what is happening now. The rest of you is in the future or the past, reliving an old battle or imagining a future one.

    I say the war in your head, but you will inevitably feel its effects in your body as well. Maybe your throat or your chest is tight, your breathing is shallow, and your stomach feels a bit nauseous. As far as your body’s concerned, you might as well be experiencing the scene in reality: the stress hormones flow just as surely, doing their damage.

    When the war is in your head, you are the loser, every time. It doesn’t matter how often you re-fight the battle (or fight it in advance)—you have ceded your peace of mind, and anything else that might be available to you in the present moment. You can wear yourself out, even boxing with shadows.

    I learned this the hard way, during and after my divorce. I spent hours, days, weeks, and months with a full-scale war raging in my head. I sleepwalked through the rest of my life to the accompaniment of a continuous background rumble of outrage, pain, and anger.

    Most of my energy and attention were sucked up in imaginary arguments with my ex-husband, his lawyer, and the judge. I would go over and over the same ground, inwardly reciting my grievances, telling them off, or spinning down the rabbit holes of innumerable “what if” scenarios. None of it did me any good—the war in my head only added to my suffering.

    Eventually I realized what I was doing to myself and laid down my arms in sheer exhaustion. The quiet in my mind was almost eerie, like a battlefield after the ceasefire is called.

    Although my divorce continued along much the same lines it had been, I refused to give up my entire life and energy to the fight. I consulted with my lawyer, did what was necessary when it was necessary, and slowly became aware of the life that had been flowing around me, unnoticed and unlived, while I fought my inner war.

    The truth is, the war in our heads harms no one but ourselves, and even a small-scale war can have major consequences. How often has someone cut you off in traffic, or made a rude remark that you ruminated on for the rest of the day? How often have you spent anxious hours worrying about a possible outcome that never occurred?

    Our mental real estate is too precious to give over to war and strife. Our bodies are too vulnerable to collateral damage. 

    Luckily, it is possible to stop the war in your head. The first—and most important—step is to simply recognize when it’s happening and what it’s doing to you. Most of us are so used to the war that we become essentially unconscious of it. It just feels normal.

    In the beginning, it will probably take a full-scale battle to get your attention, but eventually you’ll learn to recognize even a minor skirmish. When you do, the next step is to take a metaphorical “step back” from it.

    Put yourself in the role of a war correspondent, who is there to simply observe, not participate. You can’t stop the war through resistance—that will only fan the flames. You stop the war by removing the fuel it runs on, which is your unconscious participation.

    Imagine a dial that lets you turn down the volume on your thoughts, as if you were viewing a battle scene from a distance.

    Take some deep breaths, and let yourself be gently aware of any sensations in your body. You don’t have to do anything about them—just notice them and let them be. Becoming familiar with the negative effects of your mental war will help you to recognize it faster, and also give you the motivation to end it!

    If you’re a visual person, try imagining a breeze that blows through your mind, gently clearing away the thoughts… or perhaps waves crashing on a beach, leaving the sand smooth and empty. Then say to yourself: “I choose not to have a war in my head.”

    It really can be as simple as that. The war thrives on our unconscious participation. Once you become conscious of it, and make the choice to reclaim your mental real estate, the episodes of war will become both less frequent and less intense.

    When this happens, you actually become more effective at solving any actual problems you might have, because your thinking is not clouded by drama and noise. This kind of thinking—without the violent emotions and resistance attached—also doesn’t impact your body the way a mental war does.

    If you are tired of the war that rages in your head, join me in declaring a “no-war zone” in your mind and be vigilant in keeping it that way. There will always be events and situations in life that bring up resistance, anger, worry, and upset, but we can choose to be like the first monk and simply set them down rather than carrying them endlessly along with us.

  • Radical Acceptance with Tara Brach: If You’re Hard on Yourself, Read On

    Radical Acceptance with Tara Brach: If You’re Hard on Yourself, Read On

    Have you ever thought, “Something’s wrong with me”? I suspect we all have at one time or another.

    We’ve thought we’re too quiet, too loud, too eager, too lazy, too sensitive, too dramatic, or generally not good enough.

    And social media doesn’t help much. Every time we log on to Facebook or Instagram we’re bombarded with everyone else’s accomplishments, adventures, and best angles, which can easily lead us to conclude our life is somehow lacking—that we are somehow lacking.

    From there, it’s just a quick leap to self-flagellation.

    We can all be our own harshest critics. We can beat ourselves up for our mistakes, flaws, and failures, as if we’re supposed to be perfect. As if we’re supposed to have everything together and should never have bad days, negative thoughts, or painful emotions.

    But this is all part of being human. These aren’t shameful defects to hide or change. They’re realities to accept.

    If you’ve found it difficult to accept your humanity and treat yourself with kindness and compassion, you may benefit from Tara Brach’s eCourse Radical Acceptance.

    A world-renowned psychologist, author, and meditation teacher, Tara Brach has a talent for helping people embrace the present moment and overcome the blocks that prevent them from giving and receiving love.

    Her books and courses have helped millions of people heal and find peace and presence, and this particular course has received close to 600 glowing reviews.

    I’m happy to share that Udemy has offered a discount for Tiny Buddha readers, bringing the cost down to just $9.99 from now until February 19th.

    The eCourse includes four and a half hours of on-demand videos, broken down into bite-sized pieces, that you can access any time, anywhere. It’s powerful, easily digestible, and chock-full of life-changing wisdom.

    You can get instant access to Radical Acceptance by joining here, and browse through Udemy’s many other course offerings here.

    I hope the course is helpful to you!

    **Though Udemy is a Tiny Buddha sponsor, you can trust that I only recommend products and courses that speak to me personally. If you have any trouble getting the course for the discounted rate, you can contact Udemy’s customer support here.

  • The Difference Between Letting Go and Running Away

    The Difference Between Letting Go and Running Away

    “It’s about our ability to leave our death on the battlefield of life. Or having the strength and courage to give them our love and to bring them back.” ~Edward Frenkel

    It took me almost twenty years to realize that running away from ourselves isn’t the same as letting go. That realization, as with so many others, came at a time when I was at one of my lowest points.

    The day everything changed began as one of the worst of my life.

    I was struggling with the breakup of a long-term relationship. We’d been due to move in together when I discovered he’d betrayed my trust so badly that remaining in a relationship was impossible.

    I was working long hours in a job I’d grown to hate and I was exhausted. I was barely sleeping, and when I did it was the kind of nightmare-filled, fitful sleep that took forever to return from.

    I’d wake up each morning feeling as though I’d been in a battle as I slept. My fatigue was so overwhelming that I could barely manage to keep my house clean and parent my son.

    I was beat, emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

    My son was staying with his grandmother for the weekend, and once I no longer had to hold it together for him the floodgates opened. It was more than the loss of the man I’d believed I would spend the rest of my life with; it was the knowledge that my life had become passionless across the board.

    I wanted to live a creative life, to sustain myself and my son via spiritual and creative expression. But I felt blocked at every turn and I could no longer hold in my grief and desolation.

    I spent hours wandering from room to room in my silent house. Every now and then I would curl up on the floor and howl uncontrollably. Eventually, I couldn’t cry any longer and I wrapped myself in my duvet and put videos on autoplay, hoping to distract myself into numbness.

    That’s when it happened. I was half-listening to a talk by the mathematician Edward Frenkel. I’d heard it before and enjoyed it, but this time something he said utterly gut-punched me.

    He said:

    “Do you leave your deaths on the battlefield of life, or do you have the strength and courage to give them your love and bring them back?”

    And that was when I knew Edward Frenkel and I had something in common. We both knew something about dying.

    Frenkel described a time in his life he had only recently begun to understand. It was a moment when he was sixteen and he was refused a place at university in Russia because of his Jewish heritage.

    Despite going on to become wildly successful in his field, he spent years disconnected to the sixteen-year-old adolescent inside of him. To the pain of that moment when his dreams were crushed.

    As I listened suddenly she was there again. The girl I had tried to forget. The girl I had left on my own battlefield.

    I’d spent years training as a contemporary dancer. I won scholarships and top roles in performances as well as competitions in choreography. I was young, talented, passionate, and obsessed.

    One dance school called me more than others and I dreamed of finishing my training there. The day of the audition, on my seventeenth birthday, I traveled to that dance school, floating on a wave of excitement, nerves, and a sense of ‘rightness.’ Of knowing this was exactly where I needed to be.

    The process was emotionally brutal. Only five people out of a cohort of over forty were called to the next stage after doing group classes and individual solos. The rest were told to go home, as they’d been unsuccessful.

    I was one of the five. I waited in the corridor for my physical exam and interview. The instructor told us to relax, we’d passed the dance part of the audition and now it was just wrapping up the formalities. We talked about what it would be like in September when we started.

    I went home and slept in a kind of peaceful joy, knowing my dreams were coming true.

    Three days passed and the letter arrived. I began to tear it open, barely registering that it didn’t look quite right.

    It wasn’t a thick envelope, stuffed full of information about course equipment and places to live; this envelope was small and thin. Inside was a letter that simply said they regretted to inform me I had been unsuccessful.

    And that was the day a part of me died. She stayed dead for a very long time.

    I wasn’t as strong as Edward Frenkel, who continued with Math. I know nothing about his home life, but mine at the time was awful.

    Layers of trauma from a close relative’s mental health issues were taking their toll. I’d witnessed multiple suicide attempts and holding it together for my mother, who was struggling to cope, had torn into my psyche.

    Dance had been my refuge from all that. The one thing that had never let me down. The one thing I trusted, believed in, and knew with everything I had I would do with my life.

    The shock of the rejection floored me. I didn’t know what to do. I cried, once.

    And then? I ran.

    I wasn’t strong enough to pick myself up and audition again the next year. Instead, I ran away. I ran to an older, abusive boyfriend. I ran to university instead of dance school. I ran to drugs. I ran to self-harm that lasted right up until the day I became a mother.

    That day almost twenty years later, as I listened to Edward Frenkel’s words I realized that at aged thirty-six I was still running. Part of me had died that day; the part of me that was filled with creative passion and obsession. The part of me that felt a spiritual flow and call so deep there were no words for it.

    I’d spent years putting a band-aid on the pain. I busied myself with little creative projects, even danced a bit as a hobby. I’d told myself it was okay and I had to let her go. Let go of the passion I’d once felt, the sense of rightness and surety.

    But I was kidding myself. I hadn’t been letting her go all those years. I’d been running away from her, running away from the pain of rejection. And not only that, the fear of rejection was still so great I was running from my current creative dreams.

    That day my head began spinning. Could I go back for her? For that girl I’d left dead on the battlefield of my life? How could I, after so many years of rejecting her?

    I paced my room for a few more minutes and then slowly something shifted. I picked up the phone and I called a good friend. That night we drove to the beach.

    I’ve always had an affinity for the sea. It’s where I feel the most alive and peaceful. The stars were out in the clear night sky and pools of water on the sand held the moon’s reflection. I walked alone to the water’s edge and quietly I began to talk to that girl.

    She was angry. Hurt. I’d rejected her and denied her existence for so many years. But slowly, she began to listen.

    I told her that yes the dream we’d had was over and I was sorry for running away from that dream. I told her I was sorry for running away from her. I told her I loved her. Deeply and completely. And, I told her that if she wanted, we could create a new dream together.

    There were a few moments of silence and then I felt her. She was inside me, still. And I realized that all those years I’d been trying to forget her, to ‘let go’ of her, to surrender her passions, when what I really needed to do was embrace her.

    In order to let go of the pain, I had to accept it, allow it, and integrate it and my past self into who I was now.

    Killing her had done nothing for me. It was only by having the strength and courage to give her my love and bring her back to me that I could stop letting the shattered dreams of the past rule my dreams in the present.

    That night I slept properly for the first time in weeks and when I woke up I knew what to do.

    For so many years I’d played at the edges of a creative career. I’d told myself it was “unrealistic” or I’d get round to it “one day.” But I was lying to myself.

    The truth was I’d been so afraid to feel the rejection of my passion again that I sidelined every opportunity that came my way.

    This is what happens when we cut ourselves off from our passions in an attempt to protect ourselves from pain. Because we’ve been hurt, we try to stay safe by remaining wherever feels comfortable, even if that comfort is actually preventing us from accessing potential joy. But without risking pain, we prevent ourselves from growing, and the irony is that by holding ourselves down to ensure we don’t fall we actually create far more pain in the long run.

    When we go outside of our comfort zones and risk falling it opens up a whole new world of purpose, excitement, and engagement.

    Realizing this was difficult but liberating.

    A year after that morning I’d quit the job I hated and was making a living from writing, my other great creative passion. It wasn’t easy. Facing down every objection my mind could throw up about why I should just go back to what was familiar was challenging and sometimes exhausting. Sometimes it hurt like hell. To date, I’ve had my writing rejected more times than I can count.

    But with each rejection, she’s there. I hold her close. I tell her I love her.

    Together we dance. Then we begin again.

  • How and Why I Stopped Binge Drinking

    How and Why I Stopped Binge Drinking

    “Good habits are hard to form and easy to live with. Bad habits are easy to form and hard to live with. Pay attention. Be aware. If we don’t consciously form good ones, we will unconsciously form bad ones.” ~Mark Matteson

    I am an extreme person. I have always done things at 100%. I worked my hardest in high school in order to attend the best college so that I could attend the best graduate program so that I could get the best job earning the most money. I not only went to these institutions, I did very well at them.

    I was also very into powerlifting and bodybuilding—two sports that take extreme amounts of dedication, determination, discipline, and desire.

    This fiend-like mentality was fueled by my desire to please my parents. I lived for my parents, always pushing myself to meet or exceed their expectations. I was a people pleaser.

    My negative cycle started when I was quite young. I remember being in middle school and beginning to be concerned about my weight and body image. This was probably spurred by prior memories of being picked on as early as grade school.

    In middle school, the perfect storm for pain began to emerge. I realized that I could do something about my weight, so I started to lift weights and run—a lot. What I also did a lot of was eating compulsively. This was exacerbated by a rough divorce between my parents, not to mention that late middle to early high school is a time of trial and tribulation for anyone.

    Through high school, I would work out like a soldier, restrict my calories, and then binge. Sometimes I would eat until I could not move. This often happened at night, so I could not sleep either. Then I wouldn’t eat for a day or two to overcompensate.

    Heading off to college marked another morphing of this cycle. I was getting serious about competitive powerlifting and bodybuilding. I became meticulous about what I ate. I would weigh every single piece of food on a scale and then track the macronutrients (amount of fats, carbs, and proteins in grams) in an excel spreadsheet. I even became the president of the weightlifting club.

    I remember not having more than a sampler of beer on my twenty-first birthday because I didn’t want to go over my macros. It went on like this all through college.

    During my early months at college, I was so dedicated to weightlifting that I would go to parties and not drink. I can remember people getting uncomfortable around me because of this. At this point in my life, I did not understand that this was their insecurity to deal with. So I let it make me feel awkward and eventually began drinking more and more often.

    At first, I had it under control. I wouldn’t drink during the week, or for two weeks before any major exams. But when I drank, I drank a lot.

    My pattern continued through most of graduate school. There were a few times when I didn’t drink for a month or two, but usually, it was an every weekend thing. The binge eating and binge exercising continued through this time as well. I would either go for a very long bike ride and then eat everything in sight, or do the opposite.

    I consider a time early in graduate school as the beginning of my “spiritual awakening.” I had times of intense consciousness and presence. There were also very harsh periods of loneliness and depression. The cycle of getting anxious, getting depressed, and uncorking continued until graduation.

    After a short hiatus, I took a job at a startup company near where I attended graduate school. At first, the old pattern returned similarly. Once things got stressful, my cycle morphed.

    There started to be times of excessive drinking during the week. After a long day of twelve to fourteen hours with a team consisting of my boss and myself, how else was I to escape?

    I would also binge eat and then fast afterward since I didn’t have the time to do extended bike rides. This was just another way to eat everything in sight and then compensate to prevent weight gain.

    During this time in my life, my mindfulness practice was nearly non-existent. There were long periods of anger and frustration. This all continued until I realized that this job was a dead end, got fed up, and quit.

    While unemployed, I drank heavily on the weekends, which often led me to sleep most of every Monday away. I continued drinking my weekends away after I found a new job and then added a couple weeknights of drinking. Eventually, I was drinking almost every day and was still binge drinking on the weekends. Something had to give.

    Reasons for the Cycle

    My mind has always been fertile, with lots of thoughts, ideas, and emotions, which can be very overwhelming at times.

    Additionally, I had never dealt with personal issues or traumas that I had experienced, such as my lack of self-love, low self-esteem, or the anger and resentment that I had toward others who had what I thought that I did not. When those emotions came up, I would spend long periods of time not truly in the present moment.

    By overusing caffeine, I limited my creativity and capacity to think. I was often out of the moment and caught up in a chaotic mental chatter. I would get a boost of productivity with the first cup or two of coffee, and then it was a downward slide after that. I would often end up at the point of paralyzing myself with anxiety about deadlines and things that I could not control.

    Alcohol came in to dull this stress that had built up all week. This also suppressed any emotions that I had been feeling, including social anxiety.

    Drinking created countless problems. I often slipped into a sporadic, impulsive, and undisciplined lifestyle. I noticed my short-term memory was fading. I tended toward binge eating, especially while drinking or hungover. I stayed up late, throwing off my schedule. Massive schedule swings left me tired, unproductive, and uncreative. Alcohol also limits real human connection, leaving new relationships superficial.

    I genuinely feared approaching women in a social setting since I’d been rejected many times before. I feared embarrassment or the awkward moments. So instead of showing them the deep, rich, and intellectual me, they had to experience the alcohol-induced, animal side of my brain and all things that go with that. I am embarrassed to write this, but that is what alcohol does when consumed in excess.

    I also justified my behavior by only drinking on the weekends. I recognized some time ago that binging every weekend was taking me until Wednesday to feel normal again and that something might be wrong with that. But it was not until recently that I became driven to do something about it.

    This cycle that I speak of comes in an infinite number of varieties. My cycle revolves around alcohol and food. The root is a lack of self-love and general discontent with my mental construct of reality. A cycle can show up as any addiction.

    For me, going through such a perpetual cycle came from many things. I had to surface those and realize them with extreme presence and awareness. Mindfulness is a healthy way to deal with the stress and anxiety; alcohol is not.

    Ending the Cycle

    I got to a point where I thought enough was enough. I had big goals, and this type of lifestyle was not supporting those goals. So I decided to stop, cold turkey, or so I thought.

    I ended up quitting for about a month. I reduced my caffeine intake and didn’t drink at all. My energy went up, and I was feeling very balanced and grounded. This new pattern did not last long.

    I ended up slipping back into the cycle. This made me realize that this would be tougher than it may have seemed. This setback reinforced how poorly I feel and how much money I waste when I am in that cycle. It was a stark reminder how easy it is to create embarrassing situations while intoxicated.

    I now focus on the fact that we must have infinite patience with ourselves. There is no need for negative, self-defeating self-talk.

    I have recently been blessed with an opportunity to rebuild my life in a different place with a new career path. I have taken that opportunity and am currently designing my life to include people who are dedicated to living a healthy lifestyle and have an objective of helping others.

    I have again stopped drinking with the dedicated intention of not drinking for this month and not binging for the indefinite future. By writing this, I am now held responsible for my actions.

    I know it will be an arduous journey to reform my life and habits, but it is less about never drinking or binging again and more about trending toward a life of more balance and less binge.

    Reasons for Quitting

    The intriguing part is that I am not stopping this substance abuse for me. I am ending it because I found a purpose that is larger than me. I have devoted myself to this, and I need to have a fully functional, focused, dedicated, and creative mind to carry out these things.

    I have knowledge and wisdom inside of me that is very useful to others. I can translate it into a modern cultural and societal context in such a way that will be able to get through to and help many people. The rough draft of my first book is complete with many more to come!

    I know that my thoughts become negative a couple of days after a binge drinking session. I know that I am not fully present and conscious during the drinking or when I’m hungover. When I am intoxicated, I act in ways and do things that my sober self would never do.

    After a week or two of not drinking, I have noticeably more energy and a clearer mind. I realized that I must take charge of my own life and not let others influence me. To get to this point, I had to get fed up with poisoning my body and my mind.

    Alcohol is also a complacency tool. It has been given to the masses as a legal substance to numb their thoughts and emotions. It is a destructive way for humans to be able to cope with things that they falsely believe they cannot control.

    I must also always keep at the forefront of my mind that I have an alcoholic father and a mother who struggles.

    I now focus on mindfulness and gratitude. I have since realized that we are all are extraordinary and unique beings who possess a gift that we must give. Because of specific experiences that we have had, we all have more or less of certain qualities. To be angry or resentful when we do not have these characteristics is unrealistic.

    I want to be healthy, and this requires a holistic approach. We can have fit bodies and weak minds, or vice versa. To be truly healthy and happy, we must approach health from the perspective of mind, body, and soul.

    All of these components need nourishment. If we fail to nourish one part, then like a plant, it will wither. Knowing how to be healthy is one thing; doing something about it is entirely different.

    Personal Takeaways

    • It is a personal choice to take positive action.
    • I realized that when people get awkward that you don’t drink, it is their stuff, not yours.
    • Allowing such an unhealthy, addictive cycle shows little to no self-love.
    • Health is a holistic thing (physical, mental, and spiritual).
    • We must keep company who support us in our goals. Choose your company wisely.
    • Alcohol is a complacency tool. It kills consciousness and creativity.
    • This cycle I speak of comes in an infinite number of varieties.
    • We are not alone. Many other people are trying to escape their reality as well.
    • To cease such a cycle, we must devote ourselves to a larger purpose.

    Conclusion

    In the end, we are all human. This means that we are fundamentally flawed. We are also creatures of habit. It is easy for us to do something over and over if we feel we’ve gained some type of reward for doing it. This means that it is not uncommon for these habits to be negative, self-defeating, or unhealthy.

    One thing that we as humans can do is to shine the light of consciousness upon these cycles that may not benefit us. The shadows of darkness cannot live in the presence of this light. I am not suggesting that shining and holding this awareness is easy. I personally still struggle with this. It is difficult. Life is difficult. With practice, like with weight training, we can become strong, and we can change these patterns.

    We can identify our damaging cycles. We can share them with friends and family with no embarrassment or shame. We can choose to focus on what our higher purpose in life is, as we all have one. This will allow us to replace these negative, downward cycles with positive, upward ones that will benefit us and all of the people around us.

  • 4 Things a Wise Man Taught Me About Making the Most of This Short Life

    4 Things a Wise Man Taught Me About Making the Most of This Short Life

    “The goal is to die with memories, not dreams.” ~Unknown

    As we stood holding hands under that great oak tree, I had never felt more surrounded by love. It was simultaneously the most wonderful and haziest moment of my whole life as we said, “I do.”

    It had really happened. I had married my best friend.

    We made the decision to bring our wedding forward a year after my husband’s dad, Ian, had been diagnosed with cancer. In nine months we had planned and executed our perfect wedding day. And he was there.

    We drank and sang and danced the night away. And three days later my now father-in-law dropped us at the airport to leave for our honeymoon. We were so looking forward to a week away to reflect on the wedding and come down from the madness of the past nine months.

    But after just twenty-four hours we were on a plane heading back to England. Ian had passed away suddenly.

    After a restless week of tears, hugs, and family time it hadn’t even begun to sink in. We’re now months down the line and it still hasn’t really begun to sink in.

    I had lived with my mother and father-in-law for a few years prior to this. This was a man who quite literally made me laugh every day. But perhaps most importantly, this was a man who always told us to follow our dreams, travel the world, and do what makes us happy. It’s hard to accept he’s gone.

    I had always admired his outlook on life. And though he is no longer here in person, he has left us with some rules to live by that I will carry with me forever.

    1. Always make time for people.

    Life can be busy. Sometimes a little too busy. But one thing that Ian always did so naturally was make time for other people. Whether he knew them well or not, he always had time for a chat. He got to know people; he shared stories with them. But more than that, he listened to their stories and he loved to hear about people from all walks of life.

    Everywhere he went people were happy to see him. Even if it was just a week’s holiday to Spain you knew he’d be leaving with a bunch of hilarious stories from the locals and people he met. He had an aura about him that just seemed to attract people and make them want to stop and talk to him.

    So what have I learnt from this? Okay, so life is busy. But it will pass you by if you let it. Sometimes it’s worth taking that extra five minutes to stop and talk to someone. Take time to get to know them. Making time for other people is such a satisfying feeling.

    You never know whom you’re going to meet. You never know how people are going to affect or influence your life. But not only that, you have no idea how you could influence or change someone else’s life, even with just one conversation.

    One thing that gets me down, and something I try not to do too much these days, is reading the news. Reading about how people treat one another, especially given everything that’s going on at the moment. Just making time for people you don’t usually speak to, or getting to know someone new can do wonders for restoring your faith in humanity. There are some incredible people out there!

    My husband, like his dad, is very good at getting to know people. As we drunkenly made conversation with a taxi driver one night, we discovered he was a Buddhist and he was from India. That’s not the remarkable part.

    As he pulled up outside the house we were taking to him about traveling and how we’d love to visit India one day. He took his wallet in his hand and he said, “What is this? Money? It’s a bit of paper. Life it too short to always be chasing money. You need to see the world and make the most of it.”

    The conversation we had with this taxi driver was short, but it stuck with me for days. It made us so happy. We even took his card so we could call on him next time we needed a lift—and maybe a motivational chat about life!

    We’ve always known we we’re going to travel again one day, and while we understood his point about money just being a bit of paper, you do need some to get you started, even if it’s just booking a one-way ticket!

    But this conversation had got us excited and we started dreaming of ways we could travel on a budget. Turns out, if you think outside the box travel can be much cheaper than you think.

    2. Travel soothes the soul.

    Ian loved to travel. He visited some incredible places in his lifetime, and was always on the lookout for his next adventure. Like I said, he loved getting to know new people and experiencing different ways of life. He was always the first to put him and his wife forward for an adventure, and they have some truly incredible stories as a result.

    He always encouraged us to travel, and we can’t wait for the day we pack our bags and head off on our biggest adventure yet. And wherever we go, a piece of him will always be with us.

    If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should travel whenever and wherever you can—and you don’t need to be rich to do it! You could consider volunteering overseas, housesitting, or just plain saving up by cutting back on non-essentials in your daily life.

    Whatever it is you choose to do, always grab the opportunity to experience new cultures and let them shape who you are. When I am grey and old, I want to look back and know that I have some truly great memories and experiences to share.

    3. Always be yourself.

    This was something Ian was very good at. No matter what, he was always unapologetically Ian. He didn’t waste time worrying about keeping up appearances or doing the conventional thing. He was the life and soul of many parties, and this was in no small part because he was just happy being himself.

    This is something that really resonates with me. I know I worry too much. Sometimes I worry too much about what people think of me. Not always. But I know I let other people’s opinions affect my actions and mood from time to time.

    Most of us need to work at being ourselves more often. There are many people out there, just like me, who know that they can sometimes be held back by the opinion of others. But we are all one of a kind, and I truly believe that people love you more for just being you. And okay, you’re never going to get on with everyone, but you’ll make more genuine connections (and you’ll definitely have more fun) by being your authentic self.

    4. Life really is too short not to make the most of it—so seize the moment.

    And despite everything he did with his time on earth, he left too soon. He was fifty-three and still had an incredible love for life. On our wedding day, despite being ill, Ian was one of the last men standing on the dance floor, shirt off, swinging it around his head. Had you not known he was ill, you would never have thought it.

    Perhaps this is an overused phrase, but it is something I now believe to be totally true: You really should live every day as if it were your last. Because these past two years have taught me that you never know when it’s going to be your time to go.

    As someone who suffers from anxiety, I can often find myself becoming frustrated or worried about things I shouldn’t be. I am trying to teach myself to let go. And if there is one thing I wish you to take from this, it’s that life is way too short to worry about what other people think of you.

    Always be thankful for the small things, because one day they may be the big things. Enjoy every moment with your loved ones, and don’t hold grudges, because what’s the point? Cherish every hug, accept every compliment, and seize every opportunity you can to make someone else smile.

  • Accept Yourself Unconditionally (Even When You’re Struggling)

    Accept Yourself Unconditionally (Even When You’re Struggling)

    “Self-acceptance is my refusal to be in an adversarial relationship with myself.” ~Nathaniel Branden

    Have you ever thought that you accepted yourself fully, only to realize there were conditions placed upon that acceptance?

    There was a point in my life when I realized I had stopped making tangible progress with my emotions, self-esteem, and habits. I’d made some profoundly positive shifts that remained with me, like eating healthier, practicing yoga, and phasing out negative friends. You could say I was “cleaning house” in a sense—getting clear on what I wanted my life to look like and discarding the rest.

    I began my first truly healthy relationship in years, had a small freelance business that was thriving, and even became a certified yoga teacher. I was no longer a slave to self-doubt and social anxiety like I was in college. However, I didn’t feel like I could vulnerably bare all like other yoga teachers seemed to do so effortlessly.

    I was still experiencing some of the same old negative feelings I always had, like dreading social situations and feeling somehow “behind” in life despite all my progress.

    I would still slip into self-sabotaging thoughts, mentally talking down to myself when I didn’t teach perfectly. I would still compare myself to other women my age, coming up with stories as to why they were “better” or “further ahead” than I was.

    Despite knowing how critical it was to stop doing this, the sense of self-doubt seemed overwhelming and inevitable at times. Upon realizing that these issues were still present, I promptly abandoned myself. Rather than practicing self-care, I “relapsed” into shame. I was ashamed of feeling shame.

    “I’m a yoga teacher. I’m not allowed to get in these moods anymore. I should not still struggle with these feelings,” I thought.

    During this period, I dwelled hard. I didn’t reach out to anyone. I felt a nauseating fear in the pit of my stomach that made me want to give up on everything. The light at the end of the tunnel had all but flickered out. Convinced that I was alone in these feelings, I stubbornly forgot that other people went through these same emotions all the time.

    “I’m not normal. I’ve learned nothing after all this time. I’m foolish and completely hopeless. Who would even want to be around someone like me?”

    These may seem like words from the journal of a severely depressed, or maybe even suicidal person. When you read these words you might think, “Eek. I can’t believe she shared that publicly!” Or you might wince and turn away in discomfort, briefly recalling your own dark and “ugly” thoughts. But in truth, these are just two of the sentences I spewed out into a Word document on a particularly bad day.

    I no longer buy in to the belief that these kinds of thoughts make me “bad” or a “failure” as a teacher. Years ago, I wouldn’t have admitted to such heavy thoughts. However, I’ve learned not to restrict myself when I’m venting onto a blank page. I dig deep into the negativity I feel, because if I don’t, I truly don’t know what emotions lie beneath the surface—or why they exist.

    Writer Flannery O’Connor once said, “I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” I know this is true for me, and I’m sure it probably applies to many of us. Sometimes we don’t really know how we feel until we start expressing it, whether it’s through writing or speaking. We can surprise ourselves with beliefs and emotions we didn’t know existed within us.

    This practice of exploring the darker thoughts led me to the realization that I still wasn’t completely showing up for myself. In other words, I needed to consciously support myself and engage in positive self-talk more often.

    As a self-proclaimed self-aware person, this realization initially caught me off guard. I thought I knew myself inside and out. But as shadow work practitioners would say, nobody really knows their shadow—not until it is carefully lured out into the light.

    It takes time, effort, courage, and brutal honesty to get acquainted with your darker emotions. Our instinct is to run, but we need to dedicate ourselves to our shadows rather than condemning them.

    Whether you work through heavy feelings in a blank Word doc like me or with a trusted friend or coach, it’s important to stop shying away from the “ugly” stuff, like anger, jealousy, fear, and judgment.

    These things shouldn’t be off limits. Furthermore, these things don’t make you bad, they don’t make you worthless, and they don’t mean you’re crazy. They are simply the heavier, unacknowledged sensations waiting to be heard and healed—waiting for their moment in the spotlight.

    In addition, it’s crucial to realize that this self-awareness process never ends. You will never get rid of all the negative you experience, and frankly, wouldn’t life be boring if you did?

    Dark emotions rise up not so we can feel ashamed, but so we can integrate them and forgive ourselves. This process is the foundation of healing, self-care, and self-acceptance.

    A good way to tell if you are conditionally or unconditionally accepting of yourself is to look at your expectations and attitudes.

    • Do you only cheer yourself on when you feel positive and/or accomplish external goals?
    • Are you “allowed” to have an off day or an unproductive week without lapsing into self-judgment and self-loathing?
    • Do you stand up for yourself when others discourage you?
    • Do you give yourself the benefit of the doubt in difficult or confusing times?

    Answering these questions will reveal if you accept yourself only conditionally. Conditional acceptance means you only love yourself when you’re performing well. (Spoiler alert: In this case, it’s the achievements you love rather than your actual self.)

    This is an incredibly easy trap to fall into, especially in the beginning of any self-acceptance journey. For many of us, self-acceptance is a foreign path that we only embark on after years of self-rejection. A lot of the things you must allow yourself to do will seem counter-intuitive, like expressing dark thoughts or letting yourself surrender to pain rather than fighting it.

    So, what can you do if conditional self-acceptance is the only kind you know how to practice?

    For one, don’t berate yourself for it! Any berating or negative judgment just keeps you in the vicious cycle. Think about it: Yelling at yourself for yelling at yourself? Not effective.

    Secondly, admit to any feelings that oppose unconditional self-acceptance. Don’t deny them or refuse to look at them. Instead, explore them. Let them coexist with the positive stuff until they have taught you whatever they needed to teach you.

    And lastly, incorporate self-care when it is easy. When your mood is light and you are full of energy, use these periods to wholeheartedly implement self-care routines. I like to implement self-care through everyday sensory experiences, like lighting some incense, taking a hot shower when it’s cold, or taking the time to cook a really good healthy meal.

    The momentum of positive habits will make your lows less treacherous. Having that stable foundation of self-respect already built into your daily life will remind you that it’s ok to struggle.

    Struggle is temporary. Struggle makes you human. And it certainly doesn’t make you any less whole.

  • He Left, But I Will Not Give Up On Myself

    He Left, But I Will Not Give Up On Myself

    “I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do. “ ~Brené Brown

    He just left our home.

    After eighteen years together, fifteen of them being married, he left as we had planned, as we had gently and lovingly discussed.

    We are on a break, a trial separation. What you hear about separation and divorce is all so achingly true. It feels like a death, a chasm where all the worst feelings imaginable pile in on you, where you can’t quite breathe right.

    The pain is visceral—like someone sliced right through your core, the heartache deep enough to make the bones ache, the weariness that makes your head feel heavy and weighted, the primal twists in your gut that cannot be fully appreciated until they are forced upon you unexpectedly.

    My eyes are completely dried out and sore, begging for a reprieve from the ocean of tears.

    I did not see this coming. I wasn’t blindsided completely, as there have been whispers and ghosts of unpleasant truths that had been squashed down for years: all those inner, intimate workings of a marriage that didn’t always flow smoothly, undetectable to the outside world. The ebbs and flows, the dark thoughts that sprout up on a sleepless night, a human experience in all its shared, bumpy glory.

    Through all that, there was purity and goodness, what makes a marriage so rewarding and rich: a deeply rooted friendship, strong as anything I have ever felt with someone in my life. I was connected, heard, understood.

    I had a witness to my life’s journey in all its madness, monotony, and triumph. My person. My love. The person who got it without having to say a word. That steady presence even when we were physically apart. I felt secure and safe, and my feet were firmly planted on the ground.

    So much time, so much history, so much togetherness feels like it has been wiped out in the span of a few months. It disappeared up in smoke with only the ashes to remain. I am untethered, rudderless, a sail desperately trying to right itself in the tempest.

    There is no faultfinding, no hatred, just a crushing sadness with a generous dose of regret. Regret for all the times we didn’t tune into each other or communicate when things urgently needed to be said and handled with proper care. Care that would heal wounds instead of allowing them to fester.

    Regret for retreating into our respective corners and hiding, survival skills carried over from tumultuous childhoods. We landed in the gray area of life where feelings subtly shift over time and don’t course correct in healthy ways.

    That dreaded place where human emotions get murky, cloudy, and raw, allowing vulnerability and disconnect to cause you to do things you never thought you would. In turn, you make futile efforts for control when there is none. You don’t want to let go but you must. Your hands are too raw and bloody from the struggle to hang on for dear life. I know what it means to surrender now.

    It is gone. I am unsure it will ever be back. If it comes back, I hope it is stronger and more lovingly powerful than before, impenetrable from any slings and arrows that may try to dent and poison it. We will nourish and nurture it to make it right, whole, solid—not let it wither away so easily on the vine.

    I won’t mind the battle scars, as they will serve to remind me of what we can endure, how we cope, how we survive, and what loss really feels like in your soul. It will remind me to cherish the feeling of home, the safe haven of togetherness. We will mourn the death of our old marriage and pave a path for a new one that is healing, bright, and hopeful, permanently altered for the better.

    Right now, I am alone, terrified, vulnerable, standing on the edge of an abyss. All I have is myself, and I have to believe that I am enough. My mantra is “I will get through this,” and I repeat it often. It comforts me sometimes.

    I know there are things I didn’t want to acknowledge about myself: I became complacent, didn’t take full advantage of my days of freedom, chose the easy way out on many occasions, ignored my creative leanings, and became more dependent than I would ever care to admit.

    I numbed myself with monotony, allowing seemingly benign things from the past to insidiously take root and work their way to the surface, infecting everything in its path.

    Now it is all there, right in front of me, not so much taunting me but in my face, reminding me I have some work to do. Life lessons that need to be understood and imbibed to my core so I don’t keep repeating them. Not to put myself in such a place of insecurity ever again. I must own all of this, my part. Digest it painfully and slowly but knowing it will fortify me in the future.

    Where will I be in six months, a year? How will this unfold? Will I make hugely gratifying changes that smooth everything over? Will he? Will I take this time to get back to myself? Will I be all too human and fail miserably? Will I numb myself yet again to all of this? Maybe. Maybe not. It is unknowable right now.

    I know what I will be doing every day until the answers come. And they will come whether I like them or not. I will get up each morning. I will take care of my body and mind. I will shower, wash my hair, put on makeup, and get dressed.

    I will face the days, whether they feel short and uneventful or impossibly long, full of loneliness, despair, and isolation. I will cry until I feel depleted and then cry again. I will not sleep well. My stomach will feel like someone is gripping it tightly in their fist.

    But I will take long walks, and inhale clean, fresh air. I will try to eat well, be kind to myself, stay open, soft, and not wear bitterness like a mask or feel my chest constrict with impotent rage. I will remember that it is okay to be afraid. I will reach out to people when I need to and be alone when I need to.

    I will try to laugh every day and remember all the good things I have. I will drink red wine and dance spontaneously to remind myself I am alive in this body. I will not give up on myself, though I will want to. I will not break even though I am fragile as fine china. I will throw many balls in the air and see if one lands on a treasured feeling of possibility.

    I will let this exquisite pain be my greatest teacher. I will give it time—that magical elixir that taunts and teases on its own schedule. I will become the woman I know I am deep inside, even though she got lost along the way—the woman of my dreams, who is capable and strong. It has been eighteen years of building one life, and now I will begin building a new one.

    The most important thing I have learned through this period of profound change is that you need to show up for yourself—always. To be your own champion and best friend. To know with absolute certainty that you are the only person you can count on in order to move forward and build the life of your dreams, with or without someone else. And knowing that is worth everything.

  • How to Find That Something That Feels Missing

    How to Find That Something That Feels Missing

    “The spiritual path is simply the journey of living our lives. Everyone is on a spiritual path; most people just don’t know it.” ~Marianne Williamson

    I remember it as if it happened yesterday. I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst tightening of my chest that I had ever experienced. My heart was racing uncontrollably, my hands were clammy and cold, and nothing I did brought relief.

    I prayed. I chanted. I tapped. I prayed and then prayed some more.

    I thought I was going to die. I started to immediately regret all of the things I hadn’t said, all of the things I hadn’t done, and all the ways I’d failed to truly enjoy my life.

    After what seemed like an eternity, I finally fell asleep just to wake up in another panic because my entire body was wired from head to toe. To make matters worse, I needed to be in court bright and early (more on that later).

    I remember walking into my cardiologist’s office in a panic. He insisted nothing was wrong and that I should consider quitting my job.

    “Quit my job?” I laughed out loud several times.

    His face was stoic. He was not joking. Sh** just got real.

    After wearing a heart monitor for thirty days because I needed to get to the bottom of these debilitating episodes, thankfully, I learned that my heart was functioning just fine. But, the symptoms were a message about a much bigger problem.

    I needed a makeover. I needed a blank canvas.

    Up until that moment, I had lived my life checking items off a list—a list society tells us we need to tackle if we want to be happy and successful, both extremely subjective words.

    The list looks something like this:

    • Get the degree. Check.
    • Buy the expensive property. Check.
    • Be a “good” person. Translation: overextend yourself and be everything to everyone. Check.
    • Dive into a soul-sucking career for the sake of prestige and money. Check.
    • Play it safe. Check.

    Well, I had pretty much checked off the whole list. Yet, I could not shake off this deep desire to find something that felt missing. I felt empty, sad, and angry most days, yet I covered it up with a smile and fake gratitude.

    I’d lost my connection. I’d lost myself. I had no idea who I was. I did not know what to believe in.

    It was like I was waking up from a deep sleep. My soul was craving meaning, depth, and connection. I needed to release all of the beliefs that had kept me hostage to fear and zombie-like comfort.

    My day job as a lawyer was adding a layer of stress to my life that I could not shake off. I knew that this was not the path my soul intended, yet I needed the money, so it was not time to leave just yet. And to make things more confusing, I was good at it. My brain would trick me into thinking I needed to stay in that career.

    While I managed my responsibilities during the day, most nights I consume more spiritual material than most do in a lifetime. I was in search mode. Although I learned many beautiful philosophies and teachings, this consumption of information was not the answer I was seeking.

    I sought coaches, attended seminars, and read almost every book under the sun, yet the feeling of connection eluded me.

    Why? Because I was trying to soothe myself from the mental plane and I forgot to feel my way through the process. I did not know how to connect to my body, and I certainly was not in touch with my right brain—the center of intuition and creativity.

    From that point onward, I committed myself to soul work. The road was long and windy. There were rivers of tears along the way.

    During this time, I discovered things I’d kept hidden from myself and got to know myself in new ways. I was peeling back layers that slowly revealed my true self.

    One of my biggest revelations during my journey is that, although I was living like an extrovert, my essence is one of an introvert. I discovered that I am highly sensitive and empathetic. It was difficult for me to accept this because I associated introversion with shyness, weakness, and weirdness, but the more I felt into this truth about myself, the more I started to love the real me.

    My introversion taught me about the beauty of downtime. It helped me feel into my body and learn all the things she needed at any given time to feel relaxed and nourished.

    I realized I’d been living too fast, checking off lists, too busy “being productive” and making sure that I was pleasing everyone. But, I rarely checked in with myself to process my feelings, or to feel into what I really needed. I learned that I had abandoned my needs most of my life in the name of acceptance.

    Much of this process involves facing what we have denied to ourselves for so long. It is painful, but extremely powerful. The gold at the end of the rainbow: I feel more inspired, refreshed, and connected. That is the theme of my life.

    Connection.

    So, what are some of the lessons that you can expect when you say yes to soul work?

    Embrace your feelings—even the dark ones.

    You can’t be happy all the time. It’s not possible, so please do not try. Do not chase happiness.

    This beautiful universe is all about duality. How could you possibly love the light without experiencing the dark?

    You can’t. Because you would not have a reference point.

    And, what is the fastest path to the light?

    Feelings.

    They are the gateway to your soul.

    I’m not referring to your everyday emotions, which can feel like a rollercoaster at times. I’m talking about deep reflection. I am talking about the feelings that are trying to deliver messages to you all day long.

    The good. The bad. The ugly.

    An amazing mentor taught me one of the most powerful processes for releasing negative emotions.

    It just requires breathing and focus on the feeling. Once you feel the energy of an emotion, it shifts and moves as you breathe into it. There are so many insights that come to the surface when you remove the initial layer and make room for the expression of the pain.

    Once the veil of pain is removed, you reach a higher perspective, where you see any situation from a higher plane and not just with your limited human eyes.

    Ask yourself:

    What am I constantly thinking about that’s bringing me down?

    What do I long to release but haven’t been able to?

    Then ask your feelings:

    What are you here to teach me and breathe?

    Feel the feeling; breathe into it. Feel it shift and move inside of you.

    Listen. And then write whatever insights you receive. Do not judge yourself at any point. These are your feelings and they are real to you.

    When I asked these questions, I had to admit to myself that I was continually expecting people to behave and feel like me, and when that did not happen, I felt disappointed. This way of processing the world was bringing me down, so I reevaluated my relationships.

    I realized that I had resentment because I felt like I was a giver in most of my relationships. Why? Because over-giving stems from not checking in and slowing down. I stopped being only a giver. I learned how to receive. I started to express my feelings and most importantly, I started to feel into my needs and say yes to them.

    At first, it felt selfish, but then it became necessary. The more I connected with myself and learned about my true needs, the more available I was for deeper and more authentic connections with the world.

    Let your inner wisdom be your guide. It knows how to best navigate your life.

    We listen to opinions all day long, unconsciously and consciously. People with good intentions want to tell us how we should do things, or how we should feel, think, and act.

    While I personally believe that the universe delivers messages through others sometimes, the ultimate filter of your life must be your inner wisdom, that piece of unconditional love that guides you.

    This guidance is available to all of us.

    Ask yourself:

    What am I refusing to see?   

    What am I ignoring?  

    What am I hiding from myself?

    You may not get answers at first, but you will start to build a connection to your inner world.

    Our brains will always have a conditioned response to these questions, but when we breathe and feel into the answers, a new message may emerge for you. A new perspective may be shown to you.

    One of the biggest revelations for me when I asked these questions is that my true nature is one of a healer and someone who wants to help others heal and get in touch with their hearts. Although my entire life has been all about getting things done and building a career, my true nature is all about feeling and flowing. A very different energy than the one I was creating in my day-to-day life.

    There is no better place than here, than now.

    Being present is one of the most challenging tasks we can undertake, but if we want to transform, we need to learn to master the present. Otherwise, we are forever chasing the next thing.

    I am currently living a reality where I wish I was doing what I love full time, but apparently, I still have lessons to learn from my current day job. I stay present by being a light warrior all day, even in the courtroom. I shine my light everywhere, and I allow it to lead me.

    Although I am transitioning, it has been very challenging to stay present and bring my light to my day job, because the truth is that I want to be there, but I am here for now. But if I can be present here, I can be present anywhere. Because being present means that you are connected to your body.

    To stay present, every so often during the day ask yourself these questions (courtesy of Tosha Silver):

    Where am I?

    What am I doing right this minute? 

    Where has my mind taken me?

    And most importantly, am I breathing fully?

    Love your rest.

    This is huge. It’s essential to your health. Say no as often as possible in the name of rest!

    If my body does not feel like doing something, I honor that now instead of forcing myself to do things out of obligation or pressure. If I am tired and overwhelmed, I no longer have a problem retreating and declining to attend any events, including family commitments.

    At one point, I thought I needed to be everything to everyone. This led to my mini breakdown. While I still have certain obligations because that’s just life, I check in way more often now to feel into whether something is a yes or no.

    This takes some practice, so please be patient with yourself and do not expect everyone to understand your journey. It’s okay, we all have our own path. This is about what feels right to you.

    My new mantra is rest. refresh. repeat.

    The words that come out of your mouth when you’re angry or resentful are not the deep truth.

    Mental truth is reactive and layered with stories from past experiences. Mental truth is often wrapped in deep pain and insecurities.

    Your soul truth is the deeper truth that’s born from self-awareness and personal insight.

    For example, your mental truth may cause you to react to your partner by shouting at them or shutting down when they fail to come home at the time you expected. Your mental truth may make a million assumptions like, “They do not love me or they aren’t there for me ever or they are cheating on me.”

    If you can get to your soul truth, however, you may recognize that your feelings stem from past experiences and your assumptions lie in your own insecurities.

    Your soul truth may ask you to voice your concerns or speak to your partner instead of defaulting to anger or blame. Your truth may ask you to forgive yourself for any past experiences that hurt you.

    Your truth will always ask you to take responsibility for how you feel, and it will always encourage you to speak from your heart and inquire from the source if you are prone to making assumptions. Your truth will also warn you if something is off and will invite you to see things for what they are.

    Breathe and ask silently, put your hand on your heart and ask:

    What is my message about this situation?

     How can I see this differently?

    What is this moment trying to teach me?

    What is my inner truth showing me?

    Your truth will feel profound and anchored in love and wisdom.

    Creativity is the language of your soul.

    When I started to color and draw portraits from YouTube tutorials, I entered the magical world of the right brain. This is where the magic lives.

    Our left brains work hard to analyze and provide logic. Sometimes, this part of our brain can go into a loop because the logical part in us does not take into account our heart’s wisdom, nor does it take our feelings into consideration.

    The right brain is more intuitive and abstract. The right brain is creative. It’s a place where we feel and interpret events through our gut, colors, and senses.

    For example, if I were to express anger through my left brain, I would use words like “volatile,” “pissed off,” or “explosive.” If I were to describe anger using my right brain, I might say it looks like the color red and it feels tight in my chest.

    And if I ask my right brain what anger is here to teach me, most of the time, it will feel like the message is that I am not being honest with someone or myself (of course there are a million other reasons why one can feel anger).

    The right brain offers more depth. Being in my right brain has taught me to feel my body and the sensations and feelings, since these are messages and nudges from our inner wisdom.

    So it is important in order to reach equanimity, to find your creativity and call it forth. You will feel more connected and more centered. Find activities that do not require thinking so you can start to feel the difference.

    —

    As you embark on your own path, which begins with willingness and the realization that something is missing, you will undoubtedly say goodbye to who you thought you were and you will fall in love with the gift that you are.

    You may feel depleted some days, but for the most part you will experience a reorganization of your life and energy. You will feel like a child learning to see the world with new eyes. You will feel a deeper feeling of peace and happiness than you ever could have found by working through society’s list. This is soul work. Are you ready for it?

  • Happiness Starts with You

    Happiness Starts with You

  • Twisted Love: What I Learned from Being in an Abusive Relationship

    Twisted Love: What I Learned from Being in an Abusive Relationship

    “Never wish them pain. That’s not who you are. If they caused you pain, they must have pain inside. Wish them healing. That’s what they need.” ~Najwa Zebian

    Most of us don’t grow up and say we’re going to be killers.

    Most of us don’t grow up and say we’re going to hurt people.

    We don’t grow up thinking and planning to hurt ourselves.

    But there are moments in our lives in which we’ve stepped outside of ourselves and made decisions that impair our lives. Decisions that remain with us for a lifetime.

    Then we have difficulty forgiving ourselves because what we did went against everything we’ve ever believed. We wonder if this is who we’ve always been. We wonder if we’re able to change.

    Pivotal Moments in Time Teaches Us Everything We Need to Know

    I remember when I slapped my ex-girlfriend.

    We were arguing for hours. She made a horrific comment about my son, and I snapped. I slapped her. I felt ashamed.

    For the first six months of our relationship, things were great. Then I started to pull back. I realized I was too invested in her and not in my home life. I was not only caring for my son but also my teenage sister.

    Things changed.

    I went from being with her regularly to telling her I couldn’t stay. Because she felt abandoned by me, she became verbally abusive. When we argued I would walk away because I knew what was coming next.

    She knew my vulnerabilities and every last dark secret of my soul. And she used them as if they were ammo in an Ak-47 to eviscerate me. This led to her becoming physical. It went on for months. We were held hostage by pain, fear, and a twisted love.

    I found myself holding on to someone who bullied me but loved me, who wanted to love me despite my pain but hated me because of my pain. Most of the time I felt suspended in the twilight zone.

    However, the relationship became more and more emotionally and physically abusive. It never seemed like it was abusive. It was common for lesbians to “have drama.” It was common to be pushed once, maybe twice.

    But, I knew something was wrong when I started to hit back. I’ve never been in a fight in my entire life, and here I was brawling with the love of my life.

    Relationships Do Have An Expiration Date

    But it makes sense. I grew up in an abusive household with a dominating aunt. There were several years of not fighting back, several years of taking the abuse, several years of not raising my voice.

    I grew up feeling undeserving of love. I grew up in a household of shame, of never feeling good enough. It makes perfect sense I would repeat this cycle as an adult with my most important teacher.

    When someone calls you a pansy, a doormat, or says you’re too sensitive, it reaffirms that you have no self-worth.

    I found myself finally fighting back.

    I resisted for so long, and I took the beatings, the name-callings the same way I did as a child. But at that moment, I didn’t know who I was. I smashed objects to the ground, I kicked, I choked, and the both of us became other people.

    We became little girls who have been frightened our entire lives, little girls whose families promised to love them but didn’t. Little girls who were both abandoned. One withdrew from the world, and the other fought the world with intense rage. Little girls who feared the other would leave.

    During our last fight, I told her to leave. I couldn’t say any more sorries, nor could I hear them from her. I didn’t like who I was with her.

    Often we stay in relationships way past the expiration date. It curdles and creates a sickness in our bodies. I checked out of the relationship because our relationship ended years ago but we both couldn’t bear to let the other go. Afraid of the solitude that laid ahead of us. Comfort erodes joy.

    When you find yourself in a relationship and you don’t know who you are, that’s when you leave. When you see yourself doing things that seem like an out of body experience, that’s when you leave. When you find yourself hating coming home knowing that person will be there, that’s when you leave.

    I feared to leave her behind because I understood her pain. I understood why she was angry. We were opposites. I calmed her because I knew how to. I felt guilty wanting to leave. But hurt people, hurt people.

    Tie Up Loose Ends Before They Crush You

    If you have unaddressed pain and begin relationships with people who also have unresolved issues, these issues will surface in the ugliest and most unexpected ways.

    We don’t train our thoughts and we don’t heal our hurts because most of us aren’t living from the inside out. We don’t know how to. Then we try to love each other, and it just doesn’t work.

    You wouldn’t race in a Kentucky Derby without training. We enter relationships without making the necessary connections and insights from our childhood that made us who we are today.

    We don’t learn to understand the person that looks back at us in the mirror. We haven’t developed ways to begin authentic introspection. But most of all we haven’t mastered our emotions. We’re emotionally stunted individuals who fight for what we lost in our childhoods just to feel it in our adult lives. We struggle to fill the deep craters in our souls.

    My aunt was abusive out of fear. I learned later she was dealing with a bitter divorce. She emigrated to the States a married woman with three children (and me as a fourth), and within months her husband abandoned them. She didn’t know the language. And at one point was living in a homeless shelter. She was angry.

    We never learned how to love. My ex-girlfriend didn’t learn it in her home, and I didn’t learn it in mine. People can’t give you something they don’t have. We can’t expect them to unless they are aware, willing, and have done or are ready to do the work.

    We don’t know what we don’t know. But once we do know it’s our responsibility to change.

    When We Learn the Lessons They Won’t Be Repeated

    Being in an abusive relationship taught me the following things:

    Focus on self-love.

    The world opens up to us when we begin to love ourselves. It’s going to be impossible to create loving relationships without first looking within and loving ourselves. This goes for both platonic and romantic relationships.

    Two of the best books that started the process for me was The Gifts of Imperfection and The Power of Vulnerability. I soothed the abused child inside of me through compassion, love, and forgiveness. I began practicing the use of gentler and kinder words towards myself. A question I began asking is, how can I love myself more today?

    Let go of control.

    We can’t control other people’s feelings; we can’t control if and how they heal themselves. It isn’t our responsibility to heal people. All we can do is have compassion, empathy, and love for them. What is under our control is our decisions to stay or leave, the way we react, and whether we reach out for support.

    Nothing’s wrong.

    There’s nothing wrong with us. We’ve learned defense mechanisms either in our childhood or young adulthood that protected us. We’re humans having a human experience. But we don’t need those defense mechanisms anymore. What protected and worked for us as children, no longer serves us as adults.

    Be gentle.

    The inner critic will peer its disruptive head around the corner with the attempts to tear us down. It’s at this very moment we have to be gentle with ourselves by using compassionate and loving language. The more we do this, the more we minimize the sounds of the inner critic.

    We’re loveable.

    Despite not feeling loved, I am still loveable. No matter how deep our scars are and no matter how many painful experiences we’ve had, we’re still loveable.

    We’re enough.

    I’m enough. The Universe created us, and if you believe in a spiritual deity, know that they don’t make mistakes. We’re enough, we’re not too much, and we’re not missing anything. We’re enough because the Universe created us perfectly imperfect.

    “Self-respect, self-love, and self-worth, all start with self. Stop looking outside of yourself for your value.” ~Rob Liano

    Life often takes us on an unbearable path for reasons we may never know or understand. And sometimes we aren’t always able to assemble the puzzle pieces. But we aren’t beholden to our circumstances, and despite our situations, we can rise above, heal ourselves, and begin to live the best life possible.

    It begins with a decision. A decision to no longer hurt, a decision birthed from worth, and a decision to forgive.

    Wherever we are in life, it’s never too late.

    It’s never too late to begin loving from within.